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TALES 

OF A 

WAYSIDE INN 



BY 

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

M. A. EATON, B.A* 



^ EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 

BOSTON 
New York Chicago San Francisco 



jUBRARYofCONSR.'ESS] 
Two Oopias Retwy*- 

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Copyright, 1908 

By 

EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 



INTRODUCTION 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow belongs to that small 
band of truly cultivated men of letters, of whom America 
may justly be proud. From his early youth he was a 
scholar and his keenest pleasure was in hard study or 
in deUghtful musings over his books. 

Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, on the 
twenty-seventh of February, 1807. He early showed 
a remarkable power of acquiring languages and was 
ready to enter Bowdoin College at fourteen. Here he 
devoted himself chiefly to languages and literary studies. 
A foreign tongue, once mastered, was always at his 
command, even though he had not used it for years. 
"I cannot imagine," he once said, late in Hfe, "what it 
would be to take up a language and try to master it at 
this period of my life. I cannot remember how or 
when I learned any of them — to-night I have been 
speaking German, without finding the least difficulty." 

During these four years in college he wrote his first 
poems, many of which were printed in The United States 
Literary Gazette. The first poem he ever wrote was 
called The Battle of LovelVs Pond, and was published in 
a Portland newspaper. That same evening the young 
poet was invited to the house of the Chief Justice to 
meet his son, just returned from Harvard. In the 
course of the evening, the judge turned to his son and 
said, "Did you see a poem in to-day's paper upon the 
Battle of Lovell's Pond?" "No, sir," said the boy, 
"I did not." "Well," responded his father, "it was a 
very stiff production. Get your own poem on the sub- 
ject and I will read it to the company." Meanwhile 
Longfellow sat very quietly in the corner. 

In spite of this adverse criticism, the young author 
had determined upon a literary career, and when his 

3 



4 INTRODUCTION 

college life was over, he persuaded his father to let him 
spend another year of study at Harvard, instead of be- 
ginning the study of law, as the latter wished. 

Fortunately for him, a new professorship of languages 
had recently been established at Bowdoin College and 
the position was offered to Longfellow, with the proposal 
that he should spend a year abroad in study before 
commencing his new duties. 

The offer was gladly accepted and Longfellow spent 
more than three years in France, Spain, Italy, Germany, 
Holland and England, before he finally settled at Bow- 
doin, at the age of twenty-two. Here he remained for 
two years, and married the daughter of Judge Potter 
of Portland. 

At the end of that time he was appointed to the pro- 
fessorship of modern languages at Harvard, and again 
went abroad to become more familiar with German. 
Here he suffered a terrible sorrow, for his beautiful 
young wife died at Rotterdam, and he was left to come 
home alone, and enter upon a solitary life at Cambridge. 

He chose the fine old Craigie House as his residence 
and soon gathered about him a delightful company of 
friends. His life was full of work and everything from 
his pen was eagerly welcomed, but still he felt keenly 
the need of a home and so, after many years of loneli- 
ness, he married Frances Appleton, a very beautiful and 
cultivated woman. 

Craigie House soon became noted as a delightful centre 
of hospitality, not only for the many friends at home, 
but for all the noted foreigners who visited this country. 
There were books everywhere and, although no catalogue 
was ever made of this library, the owner was never at a 
loss where to look for a needed volume. But it was the 
poet himself that attracted people and not the books, 
the home, nor the delightful guests who assembled there. 

"His dignity and grace," says Mr. Winter, "and the 
beautiful refinement of his countenance, together with 
his perfect taste in dress and the exquisite simplicity of 
his manners, made him the absolute ideal of what a 
poet should be. His voice, too, was soft, sweet and 



INTRODUCTION 5 

musical, and, like his face, it had the innate charm of 
tranquillity. His eyes were blue-gray, very bright and 
brave, changeable under the influence of emotion . . . 
but mostly calm, grave, attentive and gentle. The 
habitual expression of his face was not that of sadness, 
and yet it was pensive. Perhaps it may best be described 
as that of serious and tender thoughtfulness. He had 
conquered his own sorrows thus far; but the sorrows 
of others threw their shadow over him. . . . There 
was a strange touch of sorrowful majesty and prophetic 
fortitude commingled with the composure and kindness 
of his features. . . . His spontaneous desire, the 
natural instinct of his great heart, was to be helpful — 
to lift up the lowly, to strengthen the weak, to bring out 
the best in every person, to dry every tear, and make 
every pathway smooth." 

Here in Cambridge the poet passed the rest of his 
life, although he visited Europe again, but after the death 
of his wife he aged rapidly and he resigned his professor- 
ship in 1854. His chief love was for music and little 
children, and he had many small friends. 

One day a little boy, who often came to see him, 
after examining the great library carefully, asked: 
"Have you got Jack the Giant- Killer?'' 

Longfellow was obliged to confess that he had not. 
The little boy looked very sorry and presently went 
away; but next morning he returned and gravely handed 
the poet two cents with which he was to buy a Jack the 
Giant-Killer for his own. 

In March, 1882, the poet passed quietly away, leaving 
the legacy of a beautiful, scholarly life, which is even 
more to be treasured than his poetry. 

Longfellow's principal works, with the dates of their 
publication, are as follows: Translation of the Spanish 
Poem by Don Jorge Manrique on the Death of His 
Father, 1833: Outre Mer, 1835; Hyperion, and Voices 
of the Night, 1841; Ballads and Other Poems, 1842; 
Poems on Slavery, 1843; The Spanish Student, 1845; 
The Poets and Poetry of Europe, and The Belfry of 
Bruges, 1847; Evangeline, 1848; Kavanagh, a tale, 



6 INTRODUCTION 

1849; The Seaside and the Fireside, and The Golden 
Legend, 185 1; The Song of Hiawatha, 1855; Miles 
Standish, 1858; Tales 0} a Wayside Inn, 1863; Flower 
de Luce, 1866; Translation of Dante, 1867-70; New 
England Tragedies, 1869; The Divine Tragedy, 1871; 
Three Books oj Song, 1872; The Hanging of the Crane, 
1874; Keramos, 1878. 



PLAN OF THE TALES 

These tales are supposed to be told by a company of 
people who find themselves assembled one night at the 
old "Red Horse Inn" at Sudbury, a village not far 
from Boston. The company consisted of Lyman Howe, 
the innkeeper, Professor Luigi Monti, a Sicilian author 
and lecturer, who was a personal friend of the poet; 
Henry W. Wales, the student; Ole Bull, a Norwegian 
violinist who spent some time in America, and who lived 
in Cambridge, as did Longfellow; Thomas William Par- 
sons, a poet, chiefly known for his translation of Dante; 
Israel Edrelu, a Jewish merchant; and Daniel Treadwell, 
a professor of theology in Harvard. 

The plan of telling stories in this way is familiar and 
has been used by authors from Chaucer down to Tenny- 
son and Irving. Longfellow has varied his tales greatly 
both in subject matter and metre. None of the stories 
are original, save the "Birds of Killingworth," but have 
been drawn from various sources as explained in the notes. 

"In these tales," declares one enthusiastic critic, 
"the poet felt himself in his element: the music falls 
true and perfect, and with the power of all the pedals, 
and stops at the musician's command." 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



PRELUDE 

THE WAYSIDE INN 



One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, 

Across the meadows bare and brown, 

The windows of the wayside inn 

Gleamed red with fire-hght through the leaves 

Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves, 5 

Their crimson curtains rent and thin. 

As ancient is this hostelry 

As any in the land may be. 

Built in the old. Colonial day, 

When men lived in a grander way, 10 

With ampler hospitality; 

A kind of old Hobgobhn Hall, 

Now somewhat fallen to decay, 

With weather-stains upon ihe wall, 

And stairways worn, and crazy doors, 15 

And creaking and uneven floors, 

And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall. 

A region of repose it seems, 

A place of slumber and of dreams, 



8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Remote among the wooded hills! 20 

For there no noisy railway speeds, 

Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; 

But noon and night, the panting teams 

Stop under the great oaks, that throw 

Tangles of Hght and shade below, 25 

On roofs and doors and wind-ow-sills. 

Across the road the barns display 

Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, 

Through the wide doors the breezes blow, 

The wattled cocks strut to and fro, 30 

And, half effaced by rain and shine. 

The Red Horse prances on the sign. 

Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode 

Deep silence reigned, save when a gust 

Went rushing down the county road, 35 

And skeletons of leaves, and dust, 

A moment quickened by its breath. 

Shuddered and danced their dance of death, 

And through the ancient oaks o'erhead 

Mysterious voices moaned and fled. /o 

But from the parlor of the inn 

A pleasant murmur smote the ear, 

Like water rushing through a weir; 

Oft interrupted by the din 

Of laughter and of loud applause, 45 

And, in each intervening pause, 

The music hi a violin. 

The fire-light, shedding over all 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 9 

The splendor of its ruddy glow, 

Filled the whole parlor large and low; 50 

It gleamed on wainscot and on wall, 

It touched with more than wonted grace 

Fair Princess Mary's pictured face; 

It bronzed the rafters overhead, 

On the old spinet's ivory keys 55 

It played inaudible melodies, 

It crowned the sombre clock with flame, 

The hands, the hours, the maker's name, 

And painted with a livelier red 

The Landlord's coat-of-arms again; 60 

And, flashing on the window-pane. 

Emblazoned with its light and shade 

The jovial rhymes, that still remain, 

Writ near a century ago. 

By the great Major Molineaux, 65 

Whom Hawthorne has immortal made. 

Before the blazing lire of wood 

Erect the rapt musician stood; 

And ever and anon he bent 

His head upon his instrument, 70 

And seemed to listen, till he caught 

Confessions of its secret thought — 

The joy, the triumph, the lament. 

The exultation and the pain; 

Then, by the magic of his art, 75 

He soothed the throbbings of its heart, 

And lulled it into peace again. 



lo TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Around the fireside at their ease 

There sat a group of friends, entranced 

With the delicious melodies; 80 

Who from the far-off noisy j;own 

Had to the wayside inn come down, 

To rest beneath its old oak-trges. 

The fire-Hght on their faces glanced, 

Their shadows on the wainscot danced, 85 

And, though of different lands and speech, 

Each had his tale to tell, and each 

Was anxious to be pleased and please. 

And while the sweet musician plays. 

Let me in outline sketch them all, 90 

Perchance uncouthly as the blaze 

With its uncertain touch portrays 

Their shadowy semblance on the wall. 

But first the Landlord will I trace; 

Grave in his aspect and attire; 95 

A man of ancient pedigree, 

A Justice of the Peace was he, 

Known in all Sudbury as "The Squire." 

Proud was he of his name and race, 

Of old Sir William and Sir Hugh, 100 

And in the parlor, full in view, 

His coat-of-arms, w^ell framed and glazed. 

Upon the wall in colors blazed; 

He beareth gules upon his shield, 

A chevron argent in the field, 105 

With three wolf's heads, and for the crest 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN ii 

A Wj^ern part-per-pale addressed 

Upon a helmet barred; below 

The scroll reads, "By the name of Howe." 

And over this, no longer bright, no 

Though glimmering with a latent light, 

Was hung the sword his grandsire bore, 

In the rebellious days of yore, 

Down there at Concord in the fight. 

A youth was there, of quiet ways, 1 1 5 

A Student of old books and days. 

To whom all tongues and lands were known. 

And yet a lover of his own; 

With many a social virtue graced. 

And yet a friend of solitude; 120 

A man of such a genial mood 

The heart of all things he embraced, 

And yet of such fastidious taste, 

He never found the best too good. 

Books were his passion and delight, 125 

And in his upper room at home 

Stood many a rare and sumptuous tome, 

In vellum bound, with gold bedight, 

Great volumes garmented in white. 

Recalling Florence, Pisa, Rome. 130 

He loved the twilight that surrounds 

The border- land of old romance; 

Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, •, 

And banner waves, and trumpet sounds. 

And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, 135 



12 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And mighty warriors sweep along, 

Magnified by the purple mist, 

The dusk of centuries and of song. 

The chronicles of Charlemagne, 

Of Merlin and the Mort d'Arthure, 140 

Mingled together in his brain 

With tales of Flores and Blanchefleur, 

Sir Ferumbras, Sir Eglamour, 

Sir Launcelot, Sir Morgadour, 

Sir Guy, Sir Bevis, Sir Gawain. 145 

A young Sicilian, too, was there; — 

In sight of Etna born and bred. 

Some breath of its volcanic air 

Was glowing in his heart and brain, 

And, being rebellious to his liege, 150 

After Palermo's fatal siege. 

Across the western seas he fled. 

In good King Bomba's happy reign. 

His face was like a summer night, 

All flooded with a dusky light; 155 

His hands were small; his teeth shone white 

As sea-shells, when he smiled or spoke; 

His sinews supple and strong as oak; 

Clean shaven was he as a priest. 

Who at the mass on Sunday sings, 160 

Save that upon his upper lip 

His beard, a good palm's length at least, 

Level and pointed at the tip. 

Shot sideways, like a swallow's wings. 



1 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 13 

The poets read he o'er and o'er, 165 

And most of all the Immortal Four 

Of Italy; and next to those, 

The story-telling bard of prose. 

Who wrote the joyous Tuscan tales 

Of the Decameron, that make 170 

Fiesole's green hills and vales 

Remembered for Boccaccio's sake. 

Much, too, of music was his thought; 

The melodies and measures fraught 

With sunshine and the open air, 175 

Of vineyards and the singing sea * 

Of his beloved Sicily; 

And much it pleased him to peruse 

The songs of the Sicilian muse — 

Bucolic songs by Meli sung 180 

In the familiar peasant tongue, 

That made men say, "Behold! once more 

The pitying gods to earth restore 

Theocritus of Syracuse!" 

A Spanish Jew from Alicant 185 

With aspect grand and grave was there; 

Vender of silks and fabrics rare, 

And attar of rose from the Levant. 

Like an old Patriarch he appeared, 

Abraham or Isaac, or at least 190 

Some later Prophet or High-Priest; 

With lustrous eyes, and olive skin, 

And, wildly tossed from cheeks and chin, 



14 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

The tumbling cataract of his beard. 

His garments breathed a spicy scent 195 

Of cinnamon and sandal blent, 

Like the soft aromatic gales 

That meet the mariner, who sails 

Through the Moluccas, and the seas 

That wash the shores of Celebes. 200 

All stories that recorded are 

By Pierre Alphonse he knew by heart, 

And it was rumored he could say 

The parables of Sandabar, 

And all the Fables of Pilpay, 205 

Or if not all, the greater parti 

Well versed was he in Hebrew books, 

Talmud andTargum, and the lore 

Of Kabala; and evermore 

There was a mystery in his looks; 210 

His eyes seemed gazing far away. 

As if in vision or in trance 

He heard the solemn sackbut play. 

And saw the Jewish maidens dance. 

A Theologian, from the school 215 

Of Cambridge on the Charles, was there; 

Skilful ahke with tongue and pen. 

He preached to all men everywhere 

The Gospel of the Golden Rule, 

The New Commandment given to men, 220 

Thinking the deed, and not the creed, 

Would help us in Qur utmost need. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 15 

With reverent feet the earth he trod, 

Nor banished nature from his plan, 

But studied still with deep research 225 

To build the Universal Church, 

Lofty as is the love of God, 

And ample as the wants of man. 

A poet, too, was there, whose verse 

Was tender, musical, and terse; 230 

The inspiration, the delight, 

The gleam, the glory, the swift flight, 

Of thoughts so sudden, that they seem 

The revelations of a dream, 

All these were his; but with them came 235 

No envy of another's fame; 

He did not find his sleep less sweet 

For music in some neighboring street. 

Nor rusthng hear in every breeze 

The laurels of Miltiades. 240 

Honor and blessings on his head 

While living, good report when dead, 

Who, not too eager for renown, 

Accepts, but does not clutch, the crownl 

Last the Musician, as he stood 245 

Illumined by that fire of wood; 

Fair-haired, blue-eyed, his aspect blithe, 

His figure tall and straight and lithe, 

And every feature of his face 

ReveaUng his Norwegian racej 250 



1 6 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

A radiance, streaming from within, 

Around his eyes and forehead beamed, 

The Angel with the vioUn, 

Painted by Raphael, he seemed. 

He lived in that ideal world 255 

Whose language is not speech, but song; 

Around him evermore the throng 

Of elves and sprites their dances whirled; 

The Stromkarl sang, the cataract hurled 

Its headlong waters from the height; 260 

And mingled in the wild delight 

The scream of sea-birds in their flight, 

The rumor of the forest trees. 

The plunge of the implacable seas, 

The tumult of the wind at night, 265 

Voices of eld, like trumpets blowing. 

Old ballads, and wild melodies 

Through mist and darkness pouring forth, 

Like Elivagar's river flowing 

Out of the glaciers of the North. 270 

The instrument on which he played 

Was in Cremona's workshops made. 

By a great master of the past, 

Ere yet was lost the art divine; 

Fashioned of maple and of pine, 275 

That in Tyrolian forests vast 

Had rocked and wrestled with the blast: 

Exquisite was it in design, 

Perfect in each minutest part. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 17 

A marvel of the lutist's art; 280 

And in its hollow chamber, thus, 
The maker from whose hands it came 
Had written his unrivalled name — 
"Antonius Stradivarius." 

And when he played, the atmosphere 285 

Was filled with magic, and the ear 

Caught echoes of that Harp of Gold, 

Whose music had so weird a sound. 

The hunted stag forgot to bound, 

The leaping rivulet backward rolled, 290 

The birds come down from bush and tree, 

The dead came from beneath the sea. 

The maiden to the harper's knee! 

The music ceased; the applause was loud, 

The pleased musician smiled and bowed; 295 

The wood-fire clapped its hands of flame, 

The shadows on the wainscot stirred. 

And from the harpsichord there came 

A ghostly murmur of acclaim, 

A sound like that sent down at night 300 

By birds of passage in their flight, 

From the remotest distance heard. 

Then silence followed; then began 

A clamor for the Landlord's tale — 

The story promised them of old, 305 

They said, but always left untold; 

And he, although a bashful man, 



i8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And all his courage seemed to fail, 

Finding excuse of no avail, 

Yielded; and thus the story ran. 310 



1 



THE LANDLORD'S TALE 

PAUL REVERE'S ride 

Listen, my children, and you shall hear 

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, 

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; 

Hardly a man is now alive 

Who remembers that famous day and year. 

He said to his friend, "If the British march 
By land or sea from the town to-night. 
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 
Of the North Church tower as a signal light 
One, if by land, and two, if by sea; 
And I on the opposite shore will be, 
Ready to ride and spread the alarm 
Through every Middlesex village and farm, 
For the country-folk to be up and to arm." 



Then he said, "Good-night!" and with mufiled oar 

Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, 16 

Just as the moon rose over the bay. 

Where swinging wide at her moorings lay 

The Somerset, British man-of-war; 

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar 20 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 19 

Across the moon like a prison bar, 

And a huge black hulk, that was magnified 

By its own reflection in the tide. 

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street, 

Wanders and watches with eager ears, 25 

Till in the silence around him he hears 

The muster of men at the barrack door, 

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, 

And the measured tread of the grenadiers. 

Marching down to their boats on the shore. 30 



Then he climbed to the towxr of the church, 

Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread. 

To the belfry-chamber overhead, 

And startled the pigeons from their perch 

On the sombre rafters, that round him made 35 

Masses and moving shapes of shade — 

Up the trembling ladder, steep and tall, 

To the highest window in the wall. 

Where he paused to Usten and look down 

A moment on the roofs of the town, 40 

And the moonlight flowing over all. 

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead. 

In their night-encampment on the hill, 

Wrapped in silence so deep and still 

That he could hear, Hke a sentinel's tread, 45 

The watchful night- wind, as it went 

Creeping along from tent to tent. 

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" 



20 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

A moment only he feels the spell 

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread 50 

Of the lonely belfry and the dead; 

For suddenly all his thoughts are bent 

On a shadowy something far away, 

Where the river widens to meet the bay — 

A line of black that bends and floats 55 

On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. 

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 

Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride 

On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 

Now he patted his horse's side, 60 

Now gazed at the landscape far and near. 

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth, 

And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; 

But mostly he watched with eager search 

The belfry- tower of the Old North Church, 65 

As it rose above the graves on the hill, 

Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. 

And lo! as he looks, on the belfry height 

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! 

He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 70 

But hngers and gazes, till full on his sight 

A second lamp in the belfry burns! 

A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet; 76 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 21 

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the 

light, 
The fate of a nation was riding that night; 
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 
Kindled the land into flame with its heat. 80 

He has left the village and mounted the steep, 
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, 
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; 
And under the alders, that skirt its edge. 
Now soft on the sand, nov/ loud on the ledge, 85 
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. 

It was twelve by the village clock 

When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. 

He heard the crowing of the cock, 

And the barking of the farmer's dog, 90 

And felt the damp of the river fog, 

That rises after the sun goes down. 

It was one by the village clock. 

When he galloped into Lexington. 

He saw the gilded weathercock 95 

Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 

And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, 

Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 

As if they already stood aghast 

At the bloody work they would look upon. 100 

It was two by the village clock, 

When he came to the bridge in Concord town. 



22 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

He heard the bleating of the flock, 

And the twitter of birds among the trees, 

And felt the breath of the morning breeze ic 

Blowing over the meadows brown. 

And one was safe and asleep in his bed 

Who at the bridge would be first to fall, 

Who that day would be lying dead. 

Pierced by a British musket-ball. n 

You know the rest. In the books you have read. 
How the British Regulars fired and fied — 
How the farmers gave them ball for ball. 
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, 
Chasing the red-coats down the lane, 1 1 5 

Then crossing the fields to emerge again 
Under the trees at the turn of the road, 
And only pausing to fire and load. 

So through the night rode Paul Revere; 

And so through the night w^ent his cry of alarm 120 

To every Middlesex village and farm — 

A cry of defiance and not of fear, 

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, 

And a word that shall echo forevermore! 

For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, 125 

Through all our history, to the last, 

In the hour of darkness and peril and need, 

The people will waken and listen to hear 

The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed. 

And the midnight message of Paul Revere. 1-30 



1 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 23 



INTERLUDE 

The Landlord ended thus his tale, 

Then rising took down from its nail 

The sword that hung there, dim with dust, 

And cleaving to its sheath with rust, 

And said, *'This sword was in the fight." i 

The Poet seized it, and exclaimed, 

'Tt is the sword of a good knight. 

Though homespun was his coat-of-mail; 

What matter if it be not named 

Joyeuse, Colada, Durindale, 10 

Excalibar, or Aroundight, 

Or other name the books record ? 

Your ancestor, who bore this sword 

As Colonel of the Volunteers, 

Mounted upon his old gray mare, 15 

Seen here and there and everywhere, 

To me a grander shape appears 

Than old Sir William, or what not, 

Clinking about in foreign lands 

With iron gauntlets on his hands, 20 

And on his head an iron pot!" 

All laughed; the Landlord's face grew red 

As his escutcheon on the wall; 

He could not comprehend at all 

The drift of what the Poet said; 25 

For those who had been longest dead 



24 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Were always greatest in his eyes; 

And he was speechless with surprise 

To see Sir William's plumed head 

Brought to a level with the rest, 30 

And made the subject of a jest. 



1 



And this perceiving, to appease 

The Landlord's wrath, the others' fears, 

The Student said, with careless ease, 

"The ladies and the cavaliers, 35 

The arms, the loves, the courtesies, 

The deeds of high emprise, I sing! 

Thus Ariosto says, in words 

That have the stately stride and ring 

Of armed knights and clashing swords. 40 

Now listen to the tale I bring; 

Listen! though not to me belong 

The flowing draperies of his song, 

The words that rouse, the voice that charms. 

The Landlord's tale was one of arms, 45 

Only a tale of love is mine. 

Blending the human and divine, 

A tale of the Decameron, told 

In Palmieri's garden old. 

By Fiametta,' laurel-crowned, 50 

While her companions lay around. 

And heard the intermingled sound 

Of airs that on their errands sped, 

And wild birds gossiping overhead. 

And lisp of leaves, and fountain's fall, 55 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 25 

And her own voice more sweet than all, 
Telling the tale, which, wanting these, 
Perchance may lose its power to please." 



THE STUDENT'S TALE 

THE FALCON OF SER FEDERIGO 

One summer morning, when the sun was hot, 

Weary with labor in his garden-plot. 

On a rude bench beneath his cottage eaves, 

Ser Federigo sat among the leaves 

Of a huge vine, that, with its arms outspread, 5 

Hung its delicious clusters overhead. 

Below him, through the lovely valley, flowed 

The river Arno, like a winding road. 

And from its banks were lifted high in air 

The spires and roofs of Florence called the Fair; i o 

To him a marble tomb, that rose above 

His wasted fortunes and his buried love. 

For there in banquet and in tournament, 

His wealth had lavished been, his substance spent, 

To woo and lose, since ill his wooing sped, 15 

Monna Giovanna, who his rival wed, 

Yet ever in his fancy reigned supreme. 

The ideal woman of a young man's dream. 

Then he withdrew, in poverty and pain. 

To this small farm, the last of his domain, 20 

His only comfort and his only care 



26 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

To prune his vines, and plant the iig and pear; 

His only forester and only guest 

His falcon, faithful to him, when the rest, 

Whose willing hands had found so light of yore 25 

The brazen knocker of his palace door, 

Had now no strength to lift the wooden latch. 

That entrance gave beneath a roof of thatch. 

Companion of his solitary ways. 

Purveyor of his feasts on holidays, 30 

On him this melancholy man bestowed 

The love with which his nature overflowed. 

And so the empty-handed years went round. 

Vacant, though voiceful with prophetic sound, 

And so, that summer morn, he sat and mused 35 

With folded, patient hands, as he was used. 

And dreamily before his half-closed sight 

Floated the vision of his lost delight. 

Beside him, motionless, the drowsy bird 

Dreamed of the chase, and in his slumber heard 40 

The sudden, scythe-like sweep of wings, that dare 

The headlong plunge thro' eddying gulfs of air 

Then, starting broad awake upon his perch, 

Tinkled his bells, like mass-bells in a church, 

And, looking at his master, seemed to say, 45 

"Ser Federigo, shall we hunt to-day?" 

Ser Federigo thought not of the chase; 

The tender vision of her lovely face, 

I will not say he seems to see, he sees 

In the leaf-shadows of the trellises, 50 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 27 

Herself, yet nut herself; a lovely child 

With flowing tresses, and eyes wide and wild, 

Coming undaunted up the garden walk, 

And looking not at him, but at the hawk. 

"Beautiful falcon!" said he, "would that I 55 

Might hold thee on my wrist, or see thee fly!" 

The voice was hers, and made strange echoes 

start 
Through all the haunted chambers of his heart, 
As an aeolian harp through gusty doors 
Of some old ruin its wild music pours. 60 

"Who is thy mother, my fair boy?" he said, 

His hand laid softly on that shining head. 

"Monna Giovanna. — Will you let me stay 

A little while, and with your falcon play? 

W^e live there, just beyond your garden wall, 65 

In the great house behind the poplars tall." 

So he spake on; and Federigo heard 

As from afar each softly uttered word, 

And drifted onward through the golden gleams 

And shadows of the misty sea of dreams, 70 

As mariners becalmed through vapors drift, 

And feel the sea beneath them sink and Hft, 

And heard far off the mournful breakers roar, 

And voices calling faintly from the shore! 

Then, waking from his pleasant reveries, 75 

He took the little boy upon his knees, 

And told him stories of his gallant bird, 

Till in their friendship he became a third. 



28 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Monna Giovanna, widowed in her prime, 

Had come with friends to pass the summer time 80 

In her grand villa, half-way up the hill, 

O'erlooking Florence, but retired and still; 

With iron gates, that opened through long lines 

Of sacred ilex and centennial pines, 

And terraced gardens, and broad steps of stone, 85 

And sylvan deities, with moss o'ergrown, 

And fountains palpitating in the heat. 

And all Val d'Arno stretched beneath its feet. 

Here in seclusion, as a widow may. 

The lovely lady whiled the hours away, 90 

Pacing in sal^le robes the statued hall. 

Herself the statehest statue among all. 

And seeing more and more, with secret joy, 

Her husband risen and living in her boy, 

Till the lost sense of life returned again, 95 

Not as delight, but as rehef from pain. 

Meanwhile the boy, rejoicing in his strength, 

Stormed down the terraces from length to length; 

The screaming peacock chased in hot pursuit, 

And climbed the garden trellises for fruit. 100 

But his chief pastime was to watch the flight 

Of a gerfalcon, soaring into sight. 

Beyond the trees that fringed the garden wall. 

Then downward stooping at some distant call; 

And as he gazed full often wondered he 105 

Who might the master of the falcon be, 

Until that happy morning, when he found 

Master and falcon in the cottage ground. 



I 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 29 

And now a shadow and a terror fell 

On the great house, as if a passing-bell no 

Tolled from the tower, and filled each spacious room 

With secret awe, and preternatural gloom; 

The petted boy grew ill, and day by day 

Pined with mysterious malady away. 

The mother's heart would not be comforted; 115 

Her darling seemed to her already dead. 

And often, sitting by the sufferer's side, 

"What can I do to comfort thee?" she cried. 

At first the silent lips made no reply. 

But, moved at length by her importunate cry, 120 

"Give me," he answered, with imploring tone, 

"Ser Federigo's falcon for my own!" 

No answer could the astonished mother make; 
How^ could she ask, e'en for her darling's sake, 
Such favor at a luckless lover's hand, 125 

Well knowing that to ask was to command? 
Well knowing, what all falconers confessed, 
In all the land that falcon was the best, 
The master's pride and passion and delight. 
And the sole pursuivant of this poor knight. 130 
But yet, for her child's sake, she could no less 
Than give assent, to soothe his restlessness, 
So promised, and then promising to keep 
Her promise sacred, saw him fall asleep. 

The morrow was a bright September morn; 135 
The earth was beautiful as if new-born; 



30 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

There was that nameless splendor everywhere, 
That wild exhilaration in the air, 
Which makes the passers in the city street 
Congratulate each other as they meet. 1 40 

Two lovely ladies, clothed in cloak and hood, 
Passed through the garden gate into the wood. 
Under the lustrous leaves, and through the sheen 
Of dewy sunshine showering down between. 
The one, close-hooded, had the attractive grace j 45 
Which sorrow sometimes lends a woman's face; 
Her dark eyes moistened with the mists that roll 
From the gulf-stream of passion in the soul; 
The other with her hood thrown back, her hair 
Making a golden glory in the air, 150 

Her cheeks suffused with an auroral blush, 
Her young heart singing louder than the thrush. 
So walked, that morn, through mingled light and 

shade. 
Each by the other's presence lovelier made, 
Monna Giovanna and her bosom friend, 155 

Intent upon their errand and its end. 

They found Ser Federigo at his toil. 

Like banished Adam, delving in the soil; 

And when he looked and these fair women spied. 

The garden suddenly was glorified; 160 

His long-lost Eden was restored again. 

And the strange river winding through the plain 

No longer was the Arno to his eyes. 

But the Euphrates watering Paradise! 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 31 

Monna Giovanna raised her stately head, 165 

And with fair words of salutation said: 

''Ser Federigo, we come here as friends, 

Hoping in this to make some poor amends 

For past unkindness. I who ne'er before 

Would even cross the threshold of your door, 170 

I who in happier days such pride maintained, 

Refused your banquets, and your gifts disdained, 

This morning come, a self-invited guest. 

To put your generous nature to the test, 

And breakfast with you under your own vine." 175 

To which he answered: "Poor desert of mine. 

Not your unkindness call it, for if aught 

Is good in me of feeling or of thought. 

From you it comes, and this last grace outweighs 

All sorrows, all regrets of other days." 180 

And after further compliment and talk. 

Among the dahlias in the garden walk 

He left his guests; and to his cottage turned. 

And as he entered for a moment yearned 

For the lost splendors of the days of old, 185 

The ruby glass, the silver and the gold. 

And felt how piercing is the sting of pride. 

By want embittered and intensified. 

He looks about him for some means or way 

To keep this unexpected holiday; 190 

Searched every cupboard, and then searched again. 

Summoned the maid, who came, but came in vain; 

"The Signor did not hunt to-day," she said, 



32 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

''There's nothing in the house but wine and bread." 

Then suddenly the drowsy falcon shook 195 

His little bells, with that sagacious look, 

Which said, as plain as language to the ear, 

"If anything is wanting, I am here!" 

Yes, everything is wanting, gallant bird! 

The master seized thee without further word, 200 

Like thine own lure, he whirled thee around; ah me! 

The pomp and flutter of brave falconry. 

The bells, the jesses, the bright scarlet hood. 

The flight and the pursuit o'er field and wood. 

All these forevermore are ended now; 205 

No longer victor, but the victim thou! 

Then on the board a snow-white cloth he spread, 

Laid on its wooden dish the loaf of bread. 

Brought purple grapes with autumn sunshine hot. 

The fragrant peach, the juicy bergamot; 210 

Then in the midst a flask of wine he placed. 

And with autumnal flowers the banquet graced. 

Ser Federigo, would not these suffice 

Without thy falcon stuffed with cloves and spice? 

When all was ready, and the courtly dame 215 

With her companion to the cottage came. 

Upon Ser Federigo's brain there fell 

The wild enchantment of a magic spell; 

The room they entered, mean and low and small, 

Was changed into a sumptuous banquet-hall, 220 

With fanfares by aerial trumpets blown; 

The rustic chair she sat on was a throne; 



I 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 33 

He ate celestial food, and a divine 

Flavor was given to his country wine, 

And the poor falcon, fragrant with his spice, 225 

A peacock was, or bird of paradise! 

When the repast was ended they arose, 

And passed again into the garden-close. 

Then said the lady, "Far too well I know, 

Remembering still the days of long ago, 230 

Though you betray it not, with what surprise 

You see me here in this famihar w^ise. 

You have no children, and you cannot guess 

What anguish, what unspeakable distress 

A mother feels, whose child is lying ill, 235 

Nor how her heart anticipates his will. 

And yet for this, you see me lay aside 

All womanly reserve and check of pride. 

And ask the thing most precious in your sight, 

Your falcon, your sole comfort and delight, 240 

Which if you find it in your heart to give, 

My poor, unhappy boy perchance may live." 

Ser Federigo hstens, and replies. 

With tears of love and pity in his eyes: 

*'Alas, dear lady! there can be no task 245 

So sweet to me, as giving when you ask. 

One Kttle hour ago, if I had known 

This wish of yours, it would have been my own. 

But thinking in what manner I could best 

Do honor to th€ presence of my guest, 250 



34 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

I deemed that nothing worthier could be 
Than what most dear and precious was to me, 
And so my gallant falcon breathed his last 
To furnish forth this morning our repast." 

In mute contrition, mingled with dismay, 255 

The gentle lady turned her eyes away, 
Grieving that he such sacrifice should make, 
And kill his falcon for a woman's sake, 
Yet feehng in her heart a woman's pride, 
That nothing she could ask for was denied; 260 
Then took her leave, and passed out at the gate 
With footstep slow and soul disconsolate. 

Three days went by, and lo! a passing-bell 

Tolled from the little chapel in the dell; 

Ten strokes Ser Federigo heard, and said, 265 

Breathing a prayer, "Alas! her child is dead!" 

Three months went by; and lo! a merrier chime 

Rang from the chapel bells at Christmas time; 

The cottage was deserted, and no more 

Ser Federigo sat beside its door. 270 

But now, with servitors to do his wall, 

In the grand villa, half-way up the hill. 

Sat at the Christmas feast, and at his side 

Monna Giovanna, his beloved bride, 

Never so beautiful, so kind, so fair, 275 

Enthroned once more in the old rustic chair, 

High-perched upon the back of which there stood 

The image of a falcon carved in wood, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 35 

And underneath the inscription, with a date, 

"All things come round to him who will but wait." 



INTERLUDE 

Soon as the story reached its end, 
One, over eager to commend, 
Crowned it with injudicious praise; 
And then the voice of blame found vent, 
And fanned the embers of dissent 5 

Into a somew^hat lively blaze. 

The Theologian shook his head; 

"These old Italian tales," he said, 

"From the much-praised Decameron down 

Through all the rabble of the rest, 10 

Are either trifling, dull, or lewd; 

The gossip of a neighborhood 

In some remote provincial town, 

A scandalous chronicle at best! 

They seem to me a stagnant fen, 15 

Grown rank with rushes and with reeds. 

Where a white lily, now and then. 

Blooms in the midst of noxious weeds 

And deadly nightshade on its banks." 

To this the Student straight replied, 20 

"For the white lily, many thanks! 

One should not say, with too much pride, 



30 TALES Ot A WAYSIDE INN 

Fountain, I will not drink of thee! 

Nor were it grateful to forget, 

That from these reservoirs and tanks 25 

Even imperial Shakespeare drew 

His Moor of Venice and the Jew, 

And Romeo and Juliet, 

And many a famous comedy." 

Then a long pause; till some one said, 30 

''An Angel is flying overhead!" 

At these words spake the Spanish Jew, 

And murmured with an inward breath: 

"God grant, if what you say is true 

It may not be the Angel of Death!" 35 

And then another pause; and then. 

Stroking his beard, he said again: 

"This brings back to my memory 

A story in the Talmud told, 

That book of gems, that book of gold, 40 

Of wonders many and manifold, 

A tale that often comes to me. 

And fills my heart, and haunts my brain. 

And never wearies nor growls old." 



THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE 

THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI 

Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, read 
A volume of the Law, in which it said. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 37 

''No man shall look upon my face and live." 
And as he read, he prayed that God would give 
His faithful servant with mortal eye 5 

To look upon His face and yet not die. 

Then fell a sudden shadow on the page, 

And, lifting up his eyes, grown dim with age, 

He saw the Angel of Death before him stand, 

Holding a naked sword in his right hand. 10 

Rabbi Ben Levi was a righteous man, 

Yet through his veins a chill of terror ran. 

With trembling voice he said, "What wilt thou 

here ? ' 
The x\ngel answered, "Lo! the time draws near 
When thou must die; yet first, by God's decree, 15 
Whate'er thou askest shall be granted thee." 
Replied the Rabbi, "Let these living eyes 
First look upon my place in Paradise." 

Then said the Angel, "Come with me and look." 

Rabbi Ben Levi closed the sacred book, 20 

And rising, and uplifting his gray head, 

"Give me thy sword," he to the Angel said, 

"Lest thou shouldst fall upon me by the way." 

The Angel smiled and hastened to obey, 

Then led him forth to the Celestial Town, 25 

And set him on the wall, whence, gazing down, 

Rabbi Ben Levi, with his living eye, 

Might look upon his place in Paradise. 

Then straight into the citv of the Lord 



38 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

The Rabbi leaped with the Death- Angel's sword, 30 
And through the streets there swept a sudden breath 
Of something there unknown, which men call death. 
Meanwhile the Angel stayed without, and cried, 
''Come back I " To which the Rabbi's voice replied, 
"No! in the name of God, whom I adore, 35 

I swear that hence I will depart no more!" 

Then all the Angels cried, "O Holy One, 
§ee what the son of Levi here has done! 
The kingdom of Heaven he takes by violence, 
And in Thy name refuses to go hence!" 40 

The Lord replied, "My Angels, be not wToth; 
Did e'er the son of Levi break his oath? 
Let him remain; for he with mortal eye 
Shall look upon my face and yet not die." 
Beyond the outer wall the Angel of Death 45 

Heard the great voice, and said, with panting 

t>reath, 
"Give back the sword, and let me go my way." 
Whereat the Rabbi paused, and answered, "Nay! 
Artguish enough already has it caused 
Among the sons of men." And while he paused 50 
He heard the awful mandate of the Lord 
Resounding through the air, " Give back the sword! " 

The Rabbi bowed his head in silent prayer; 
Then said he to the dreadful Angel, "Swear, 
No human eye shall look on it again; 55 

But when thou takest away the souls of men, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 39 

Thyself unseen, and with an unseen sword, 
Thou wilt perform the bidding of the Lord." 

The Angel took the sword again, and swore, 

And walks on earth unseen forevermore. 60 



INTERLUDE 

He ended: and a kind of spell 

Upon the silent listeners fell. 

His solemn manner and his words 

Had touched the deep, mysterious chords. 

That vibrate in each human breast 

Alike, but not alike confessed. 

The spiritual world seemed near; 

And close above them, full of fear, 

Its awful adumbration passed, 

A luminous shadow, vague and vast. 

They almost feared to look, lest there, 

Embodied from the impalpable air, 

They might behold the Angel stand, 

Holding the sword in his right hand. 

At last, but in a voice subdued, 

Not to disturb their dreamy mood, 

Said the Sicilian: "While you spoke, 

TeUing your legend marvellous, 

Suddenly my memory woke 

The thought of one, now gone from us — 

An old Abate, meek and mild, 



40 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

My friend and teacher, when a child, 

Who sometimes in those days of old 

The legend of an Angel told, 

Which ran, if I remember, thus." 25 



THE SICILIAN'S TALE 

KING ROBERT OF SICILY 

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 
Apparelled in magnificent attire. 
With retinue of many a knight and squire, 
On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat 5 

And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. 
And as he listened, o'er and o'er again 
Repeated, like a burden or refrain, 
He caught the words, '^ Deposuit potentes 
De sede, et exaltavit humiles^^; 10 

And slowly lifting up his kingly head 
He to a learned clerk beside him said, 
"What mean these words?" The clerk made an- 
swer meet, 
"He has put down the mighty from their seat. 
And has exalted them of low degree." 15 

Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully, 
" 'Tis well that such seditious words are sung 
Only by priests and in the Latin tongue; 
For unto priests and people be it known. 
There is no power can push me from my throne ! " 20 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 41 

And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep, 
Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep. 

When he awoke, it was already night; 
The church was empty, and there was no light. 
Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint, 
Lighted a little space before some saint. . 26 

He started from his seat and gazed around, 
But saw no living thing and heard no sound. 
He groped towards the door, but it was locked; 
He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked, 30 
And uttered awful threatenings and complaints. 
And imprecations upon men and saints. 
The sounds re-echoed from the roof and walls 
As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls! 

At length the sexton, hearing from without 35 

The tumult of the knocking and the shout. 
And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer. 
Came with his lantern, asking, "Who is there?" 
Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said, 
"Open: 'tis I, the King! Art thou afraid?" 40 
The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, 
"This is some drunken vagabond, or worse!" 
Turned the great key and flung the portal wide; 
A man rushed by him at a single stride. 
Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak, 45 

Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke, 
But leaped into the blackness of the night. 
And vanished like a spectre from his sight. 



42 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 50 

Despoiled of his magnificent attire, 
Bare-headed, breathless, and besprent with mire, 
With sense of wrong and outrage desperate, 
Strode on and thundered at the palace gate; 
Rushed through the court-yard, thrusting in his rage 
To right and left each seneschal and page, 56 

And hurried up the broad and sounding stair, 
His white face ghastly in the torches' glare. 
From hall to hall he passed with breathless speed; 
Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed, 60 
Until at last he reached the banquet-room. 
Blazing with light, and breathing with perfume. 

There on the dais sat another king, 

Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet-ring. 

King Robert's self in features, form, and height, 65 

But all transfigured with angehc light! 

It was an Angel; and his presence there 

With divine eft'ulgence filled the air. 

An exaltation, piercing the disguise. 

Though none the hidden Angel recognize. 70 

A moment speechless, motionless, amazed. 
The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed, 
Who met his looks of anger and surprise 
With the divine compassion of his eyes; 
Then said, "Who art thou? and why com'st thou 
here?" 75 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 43 

To which King Robert answered, \yith a sneer, 
"I am the King, and come to claim my own 
From an impostor, who usurps my throne!" 
And suddenly, at these audacious words. 
Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords; 
The Angel answered, with unruffled brow, 81 

"Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester, thou 
Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped 

cape, 
And for thy counsellor shalt lead an ape; 
Thou shalt obey my servants when they call, 85 
And wait upon my henchmen in the hall!" 

Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers. 
They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs; 
A group of tittering pages ran before, 
And as they opened wide the folding-door, 90 

His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms. 
The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms, 
And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring 
With the mock plaudits of "Long hve the King!" 

.Next morning, waking with the day's first beam, 95 
He said within himself, "It was a dream!" 
But the straw rustled as he turned his head. 
There were the cap and bells beside his bed. 
Around him rose the bare, discolored walls, 
Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, 
And in the corner, a revolting shape, loi 

Shivering and chattering sat the wretched ape. 



44 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

It was no dream; the world he loved so much 
Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch! 

Days came and went; and now returned again 105 

To Sicily the old Saturnian reign; 

Under the Angel's governance benign 

The happy island danced with corn and wine, 

And deep within the mountain's burning breast 

Enceladus, the giant, was at rest. no 

Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate. 

Sullen and silent and disconsolate. 

Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear. 

With looks bewildered and a vacant stare. 

Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, 1 1 5 

By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, 

His only friend the ape, his only food 

What others left — he still was unsubdued. 

And when the Angel met him on his way. 

And half in earnest, half in jest, would say, 120 

Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel 

The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, 

"Art thou the King?" the passion of his woe 

Burst from him in resistless overflov/. 

And, lifting high his forehead, he would fling 125 

The haughty answer back, "I am, I am the King!" 

Almost three years were ended; w^hen there came 

Ambassadors of great repute and name 

From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 

Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane 130 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 45 

By letter summoned them forthwith to come 

On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. 

The Angel with great joy received his guests, 

And gave them presents of embroidered vests, 

And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, 135 

And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. 

Then he departed with them o'er the sea 

Into the lovely land of Italy, 

Whose loveliness was more resplendent made 

By the mere passing of that cavalcade, 140 

With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir 

Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur. 

And lo! among the menials, in mock state. 

Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait. 

His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind, 14S 

The solemn ape demurely perched behind. 

King Robert rode, making huge merriment 

In all the country towns through which they went. 

The Pope received them with great pomp, and blare 

Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, 150 

Giving his benediction and embrace, 

Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. 

While with congratulations and with prayers 

He entertained the Angel unawares, 

Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd, 155 

Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud, 

"lam the King ! Look , and behold in me 

Robert, your brother, King of Sicily! 



46 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes, 
Is an impostor in a king's disguise. i6o 

Do you not know me? does no voice within 
Answer my cry, and say we are akin?" 
The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, 
Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene; 
The Emperor, laughing, said, ''It is strange sport 165 
To keep a madman for thy Fool at court!" 
And the poor, baffled Jester in disgrace 
Was hustled back among the populace. 

In solemn state the Holy Week went by. 

And Easter Sunday gleamed upon the sky; 170 

The presence of the Angel, with its light, 

Before the sun rose, made the city bright. 

And with new fervor filled the hearts of men, 

Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again. 

Even the Jester, on his bed of straw, 175 

With haggard eyes the unwonted splendor saw, 

He felt within a power unfelt before. 

And, kneeling humbly on his chamber floor. 

He heard the rushing garments of the Lord 

Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward. 

And now the visit ending, and once more 181 

Valmond returning to the Danube's shore, 
Homeward the Angel journeyed, and again 
The land was made resplendent with his train, 
Flashing along the towns of Italy, 185 

Unto Salerno, and from there by sea. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 47 

And when once more within Palermo's wall, 

And, seated on the throne in his great hall. 

He heard the Angelus from convent towers, 

As if the better world conversed with ours, 190 

He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher, 

And with a gesture bade the rest retire; 

And when they were alone, the Angel said, 

"Art thou the King?" Then bowing down his 

head. 
King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast, 1 9 5 
And meekly answered him : ' ' Thou knowest best ! 
My sins as scarlet are; let me go hence. 
And in some cloister's school of penitence. 
Across those stones that pave the way to heaven. 
Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul is shriven!" 200 
The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face 
A holy light illumined all the place. 
And through the open window, loud and clear, 
They heard the monks chant in the chapel near. 
Above the stir and tumult of the street: 205 

"He has put down the mighty from their seat. 
And has exalted them of low degree!" 
And through the chant a second melody 
Rose like the throbbing of a single string: 
"I am an Angel, and thou art the King!" 210 

King Robert, who was standing near the throne. 

Lifted his eyes, and lo! he was alone! 

But all apparelled as in days of old. 

With ermined mantle and wdth cloth of gold; 21 4 



48 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And when his courtiers came, they found him there 
KneeUng upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer. 



INTERLUDE 

And then the blue-eyed Norseman told 
A Saga of the days of old. 
'There is," said he, "a wondrous book 
Of Legends in the old Norse tongue. 
Of the dead kings of Norroway — 5 

Legends that once were told or sung 
In many a smoky fireside nook 
Of Iceland, in the ancient day, 
By wandering Saga-man or Scald; 
Heimskringla is the volume called; 10 

And he who looks may find therein 
The story that I now begin." 

And in each pause the story made 

Upon his violin he played. 

As an appropriate interlude, 15 

Fragments of old Norwegian tunes 

That bound in one the separate runes. 

And held the mind in perfect mood. 

Entwining and encircling all 

The strange and antiquated rhymes 20 

With melodies of olden times; 

As over some half-ruined wall. 

Disjointed and about to fall. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 4Q 

Fresh woodbines climb and interlace, 

And keep the loosened stones in place. 25 



THE MUSICIAN'S TALE 

THE SAGA OF KING OLAF 

I 
THE CHALLENGE OF THOR 

I am the God Thor 

I am the War God, 

I am the Thunderer! 

Here in my Northland, 

My fastness and fortress, 5 

Reign I forever! 

Here amid iceberg 

Rule I the nations; 

This is my hammer, 

Miolner the mighty; 10 

Giants and sorcerers 

Cannot withstand it! 

These are the gauntlets 

Wherewith I wield it. 

And hurl it afar off; 15 

This is my girdle; 

Whenever I brace it. 

Strength is redoubled! 



so TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

The light thou l)eholdest 

Stream through the heavens, 20 

In flashes of crimson, 

Is but my red beard 

Blown by the night-wind, 

Affrighting the nations! 

Jove is my brother; 25 

Mine eyes are the lightning; 

The wheels of my chariot 

Roll in the thunder, 

The blows of my hammer 

Ring in the earthquake! 30- 

Force rules the world still. 

Has ruled it, shall rule it; 

Meekness is weakness. 

Strength is triumphant, 

Over the whole earth 35 

Still is it Thor's-Day! 

Thou art a God, too, 

O GaHlean! 

And thus single-handed ] 

Unto the combat, 4° 

Gauntlet or Gospel, 

Here I defy thee! 

II 

KING OLAF'S return 

And King Olaf heard the cry, 
Saw the red light in the sky, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 51 

Laid his hand upon his sword, 45 

As he leaned upon the raiUng, 
And his ships went saihng, sailing 

Northward into Drontheim fiord. 

There he stood as one who dreamed; 

And the red light glanced and gleamed 50 

On the armor that he wore; 
And he shouted, as the rifted 
Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, 
''I accept thy challenge, Thor!" 

To avenge his father slain, 55 

And reconquer realm and reign, 

Came the youthful Olaf home. 
Through the midnight, sailing, sailing. 
Listening to the wild wind's wailing. 

And the dashing of the foam. 60 

To his thoughts the sacred name 
Of his mother Astrid came, 

And the tale she oft had told 
Of her flight by secret passes 
Through the mountains and morasses, 65 

To the home of Hakon old. 

Then strange memories crowded back 
Of Queen Gunhild's wrath and wrack, 

And a hurried flight by sea; 
Of grim Vikings, and their rapture 70 



52 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

In the sea-fight, and the capture, 
And the life of slavery. 

How a stranger watched his face 
In the Esthonian market-place, 

Scanned his features one by one, 75 

Saying, ''We should know each other; 
I am Sigurd, Astrid's brother, 

Thou art Olaf, Astrid's son!" 

Then as Queen Allogia's page, 

Old in honors, young in age, 80 

Chief of all her men-at-arms; 
Till vague whispers, and mysterious, 
Reached King Valdemar, the imperious, 

Filling him with strange alarms. 

Then his cruisings o'er the seas, 85 

Westward to the Hebrides, 

And to Scilly's rocky shore; 
And the hermit's cavern dismal, 
Christ's great name and rites baptismal, 

In the ocean's rush and roar. 90 

All these thoughts of love and strife 
Glimmered through his lurid life, 

As the stars' intenser light 
Through the red flames o'er him trailing, 
As his ships went sailing, sailing, 95 

Northward in the summer night. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 53 

Trained for either camp or court, 
Skilful in each manly sport, 

Young and beautiful and tall; 
Art of warfare, craft of chases, 100 

Swimming, skating, snow-shoe races, 

Excellent alike in all. 

When at sea, with all his rowers, 
He along the bending oars 

Outside of his ship could run. 105 

He the Smalsor Horn ascended, 
And his shining shield suspended 

On its summit, like a sun. 

On the ship-rails he could stand. 

Wield his sword with either hand, no 

And at once two javehns throw; 
At all feasts where ale was strongest 
Sat the merry monarch longest. 

First to come and last to go. 

Norway never yet had seen 215 

One so beautiful of mien, 

One so royal in attire, 
When in arms completely furnished, 
Harness gold-inlaid and burnished. 

Mantle like a flame of fire. 120 

Thus came Olaf to his own 
When upon the night-wind blown 



54 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Passed that cry along the shore; 
And he answered, while the rifted 
Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, 125 

^'I accept they challenge, Thor"! 

Ill 

THORA OF RIMOL 

^'Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me! 

Danger and shame and death betide me! 

For Olaf the King is hunting me down 

Through field and forest, through thorp and town ! " 
Thus cried Jarl Hakon 131 

To Thora, the fairest of women. 

"Hakon Jarl! for the love I bear thee 
Neither shall shame nor death come near thee! 
But the hiding-place wherein thou must lie 135 

Is the cave underneath the swine in the sty." 

Thus to Jarl Hakon 

Said Thora, the fairest of women. 

So Hakon Jarl and his base thrall Karker 
Crouched in the cave, than a dungeon darker, 140 
As Olaf came riding, with men in mail. 
Through the forest roads into Orkadale, 
Demanding Jarl Hakon 
Of Thora, the fairest of women. 

"Rich and honored shall be whoever 145 

The head of Hakon Jarl shall dissever!" 



I 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



55 



Hakon heard him, and Karker the slave, 
Through the breathing-holes of the darksome cave. 

Alone in her chamber 

Wept Thora, the fairest of women. 150 

Said Karker, the crafty, "I will not slay thee 
For all the King's gold I will never betray thee!" 
"Then why dost thou turn so pale, O churl. 
And then again black as the earth?" said the Earl. 
More pale and more faithful 155 

Was Thora, the fairest of women. 

From a dream in the night the thrall started, saying, 
" Round my neck a gold ring King Olaf was laying! " 
And Hakon answered, "Beware of the King! 
He will lay round thy neck a blood-red ring." 160 
At the ring on her finger 
Gazed Thora, the fairest of women. 

At daybreak slept Hakon, with sorrows encumbered. 
But screamed and drew up his feet as he slumbered; 
The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife, 165 
And the Earl awakened no more in this life. 
But wakeful and weeping 
Sat Thora, the fairest of women. 

At Nidarholm the priests are all singing. 

Two ghastly heads on the gibbet are swinging; 170 

One is Jarl Hakon's and one is his thrall's, 

And the people are shouting from windows and walls; 



56 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

While alone in her chamber 
Swoons Thora, the fairest of women. 

IV 

QUEEN SIGRID THE HAUGHTY 

Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft 175 
In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft. 

Heart's dearest, 

Why dost thou sorrow so? 

The floor with tassels of fir was besprent, 

Filling the room with their fragrant scent. 180 

She heard the birds sing, she saw the sun shine. 
The air of the summer was sweeter than wine. 

Like a sword without scabbard the bright river lay 
Between her own kingdom and Norroway. 

But Olaf the King had sued for her hand, .185 
The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned. 

Her maidens were seated around her knee, 
Working bright figures in tapestry. 

And one was singing the ancient rune 

Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun. 190 

And through it, and round it, and over it all 
Sounded incessant the waterfall. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 57 

The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold, 
From the door of Lade's Temple old. 

King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift, 195 

But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift. 

She had given the ring to her goldsmiths twain. 
Who smiled, as they handed it back again. 

And Sigrid the Queen, in her haughty way. 

Said, "Why do you smile, my goldsmiths, say ? " 200 

And they answered: ''O Queen! if the truth must 

be told. 
The ring is of copper, and not of gold!" 

The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek, 
She only murmured, she did not speak: 

'Tf in his gifts he can faithless be, 205 

There will be no gold in his love to me." 

A footstep was heard on the outer stair, 
And in strode King Olaf with royal air. 

He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of 

love. 
And swore to be true as the stars are above. 210 

But she smiled with contempt as she answered: "O 

King, 
Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?" 



58 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And the King: ''O speak not of Odin to me, 
The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be." 

Looking straight at the King, with her level brows, 
She said, "I keep true to my faith and my vows." 2 1 6 

Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with 

gloom. 
He rose in his anger and strode through the room. 

' ' Why, then, should I care to have thee ? " he said — 
''A faded old woman, a heathenish jade!" 220 

His zeal was stronger than fear or love, 

And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove. 

Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled. 
And the wooden stairway shook with his tread. 

Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath, 225 
''This insuh, King Olaf, shall be thy death!" 

Heart's dearest, 

Why dost thou sorrow so? 

V 

THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS 

Now from all King Olaf's farms 

His men-at-arms 230 

Gathered at the Eve of Easter: 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 59 

To his house at Angvalds-ness 

Fast they press, 
Drinking with the royal feaster. 

Loudly through the wide-flung door 235 

Came the roar 
Of the sea upon the Skerry; 
And its thunder loud and near 

Reached the ear, 
Mingling with their voices merry. 240 

''Hark!" said Olaf to his Scald, 

Halfred the Bald, 
"Listen to that song, and learn it! 
Half my kingdom would I give. 

As I live, 245 

If by such songs you would earn it' 

"For of all the runes and rhymes 

Of all times. 
Best I like the ocean's dirges, 
When the old harper heaves and rocks, 250 

His hoary locks 
Flowing and flashing in the surges!" 

Halfred answered: "I am called 

The Unappalled! 
Nothing hinders me or daunts me. 255 

Hearken to me, then, O King, 

While I sing 
The sfreat Ocean Song that haunts me." 



6o TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

"I will hear your song sublime 

Some other time," 260 

Says the drowsy monarch, yawning, 
And retires; each laughing guest 

Applauds the jest; 
Then they sleep till day is dawning. 

Pacing up and down the yard, 265 

King Olaf s guard 
Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping 
O'er the sands, and up the hill. 

Gathering still 
Round the house where they were sleeping. 270 

It was not the fog he saw, 

Nor misty flaw, 
That above the landscape brooded; 
It was Eyvind Kallda's crew 

Of warlocks blue, 275 

With their caps of darkness hooded! 

Round and round the house they go, 

Weaving slow 
Magic circles to encumber 
And imprison in their ring 280 

Olaf the King, 
As he helpless lies in slumber. 

Then athwart the vapors dun 
The Easter sun 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 6i 

Streamed with one broad track of splendor! 285 
In their real forms appeared 
The warlocks weird, 
Awful as the Witch of Endor. 

BHnded by the light that glared, 

They groped and stared 290 

Round about with steps unsteady; 
From his window Olaf gazed, 

And, amazed, 
"Who are these strange people?" said he. 

"Eyvind Kallda and his men!" 295 

Answered then 
From the yard a sturdy farmer; 
While the men-at-arms apace 

Filled the place. 
Busily buckUng on their armor. 300 

From the gates they sallied forth, 

South and north, 
Scoured the island coast around them, 
Seizing all the warlike band, 

Foot and hand 305 

On the Skerry's rocks they bound them. 

And at eve the King again 

Called his train. 
And, with all the candles burning, 
Silent sat and heard once more 310 



62 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

The sullen roar 
Of the ocean tides returning. 

Shrieks and cries of wild despair 

Filled the air, 
Growing fainter as they listened; 315 

Then the bursting surge alone 

Sounded on; — 
Thus the sorcerers were christened! 

"Sing, O Scald, your song sublime. 

Your ocean-rhyme," 320 

Cried King Olaf: "it will cheer me!" 
Said the Scald, with paUid cheeks, 

"The Skerry of Shrieks 
Sings too loud for you to hear me!" 

VI. 
THE WRAITH OF ODIN 

The guests were loud, the ale was strong, 325 
King Olaf feasted late and long; 
The hoary Scalds together sang; 
O'erhead the smoky rafters rang. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

The door swung wide, with creak and din; 330 
A blast of cold night-air came in. 
And on the threshold shivering stood 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 63 

A one-eyed guest, with cloak and hood. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

The King exclaimed, "O graybeard pale! 335 
Come warm thee with this cup of ale." 
The foaming draught the old man quaffed. 
The noisy guests looked on and laughed. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

Then spake the King: "Be not afraid; 340 

Sit here by me." The guest obeyed, 
And, seated at the table, told 
Tales of the sea, and Sagas old. 

Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

And ever, when the tale was o'er 345 

The King demanded yet one more; 
Till Sigurd the Bishop smiling said, 
'Tis late, O King, and time for bed." 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

The King retired; the stranger guest 350 

Followed and entered with the rest; 
The lights were out, the pages gone, 
But still the garrulous guest spake on. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

As one who from a volume reads, 355 

He spake of heroes and their deeds, 
Of lands and cities he had seen, 



64 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And stormy gulfs that tossed between. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

Then from his lips in music rolled 360 

The Havamal of Odin old, 

With sounds mysterious as the roar 

Of billows on a distant shore. 

Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

''Do we not learn from runes and rhymes 365 

Made by the gods in elder times, 
And do not still the great Scalds teach 
That silence better is than speech?" 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

SmiHng at this, the King replied, 370 

''Thy lore is by thy tongue behed; 
For never was I so enthralled 
Either by Saga-man or Scald." 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

The Bishop said, "Late hours we keep! 375 

Night wanes, O King! 'tis time for sleep!" 
Then slept the King, and when he woke 
The guest was gone, the morning broke. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

They found the doors securely barred, 380 

They found the watch-dog in the yard, 
There was no footprint in the grass, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 65 

And none had seen the stranger pass. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

King Olaf crossed himself and said: 385 

"I know that Odin the Great is dead; 
Sure is the triumph of our Faith, 
The one-eyed stranger was his wraith." 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

VII 
IRON-BEARD 

Olaf the King, one summer morn, 390 

Blew a blast on his bugle-horn, 
Sending his signal through the land of Drontheim. 

And to the Hus-Ting held at Mere 
Gathered the farmers far and near, 
With their war weapons ready to confront him. 395 

Ploughing under the morning star. 
Old Iron-Beard in Yriar 
Heard the summons, chuckling with a low laugh. 

He wiped the sweat-drops from his brow. 
Unharnessed his horses from the plough, 400 
And clattering came on horseback to King Olaf. 

He was the churHest of the churls; 
Little he cared for king or earls: 
Bitter as home-brewed ale were his foaming passions. 



66 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Hodden-gray was the garb he wore, 405 

And by the Hammer of Thor he swore; 
He hated the narrow town, and all its fashions. 

But he loved the freedom of his farm, 
His ale at night, by the fireside warm, 
Gudrun his daughter, with her flaxen tresses. 410 

He loved his horses and his herds, 
The smell of the earth, and the song of birds, 
His well-filled barns, his brook with its water-cresses. 

Huge and cumbersome was his frame; 
His beard, from which he took his name, 415 
Frosty and fierce, like that of Hymer the Giant. 

So at the Hus-Ting he appeared, 
The farmer of Yriar, Iron-Beard, 
On horseback, with an attitude defiant. 

And to King Olaf he cried aloud, 420 

Out of the middle of the crowd. 
That tossed him about like a stormy ocean: 

^'Such sacrifices shalt thou bring; 
To Odin and to Thor, O King, 
As other kings have done in their devotion!" 425 

King Olaf answered: "I command 
This land to be a Christian land; 
Here is my Bishop who the folk baptizes! 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 67 

"But if you ask me to restore 
Your sacrifices, stained with gore, 430 

Then will I offer Jiuman sacrifices ! 

*'Not slaves and peasants shall they be, 
But men of note and high degree, 
Such men as Orm of Lyra and Kar of Gryting!" 

Then to their Temple strode he in, 435 

And loud behind him heard the din 
Of his men-at-arms and the peasants fiercely fighting. 

There in the Temple, carved in wood, 
The image of great Odin stood, 
And other gods, with Thor supreme among them. 440 

King Olaf smote them with the blade 
Of his huge war-axe, gold inlaid, 
And downward shattered to the pavement flung 
them. 

At the same moment rose without. 
From the contending crowd, a shout, 445 

A mingled sound of triumph and of wailing. 

And there upon the trampled plain 
The farmer Iron-Beard lay slain, 
Midway between the assailed and the assailing. 



68 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

King Olaf from the doorway spoke: 450 

"Choose ye between two things, my folk, 
To be baptized or given up to slaughter!" 

And seeing their leader stark and dead, 
The people with a murmur said, 
"O King, baptize us with thy holy water!" 455 

So all the Drontheim land became 
A Christian land in name and fame, 
In the old gods no more believing and trusting. 

And as a blood-atonement, soon 
King Olaf wed the fair Gudrun; 460 

And thus in peace ended the Drontheim Hus-Ting! 

VIII 
GUDRUN 

On King Olaf's bridal night 
Shines the moon with tender Hght, 
And across the chamber streams 

Its tide of dreams. 465 

At the fatal midnight hour. 
When all evil things have power, 
In the glimmer of the moon 
Stands Gudrun. 

Close against her heaving breast, 470 

Something in her hand is pressed; 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 69 

Like an icicle, its sheen 
Is Gold and keen. 

On the cairn are fixed her eyes 
Where her murdered father lies, 475 

And a voice remote and drear 
She seems to hear. 

What a bridal night is this! 
Cold will be the dagger's kiss; 
Laden with the chill of death 480 

Is its breath. 

Like the drifting snow she sweeps 
To the couch where Olaf sleeps; 
Suddenly he wakes and stirs, 

His eyes meet hers. 485 

"What is that," King Olaf said, 
"Gleams so bright above thy head? 
Wherefore standest thou so white 
In pale moonhght?" 

" 'Tis the bodkin that I wear 49° 

When at night I bind my hair; 
It woke me falling on the floor; 
'Tis nothing more." 

"Forests have ears, and fields have eyes; 
Often treachery lurking lies 495 



70 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Underneath the fairest hair! 
Gudrun beware!" 

Ere the earliest peep of morn 
Blew King Olaf's bugle-horn; 
And forever sundered ride 500 

Bridegroom and bride! 

IX 

THANGBRAND THE PRIEST 

Short of stature, large of limb, 
Burly face and russet beard, 
All the women stared at him, 
When in Iceland he appeared. 505 

''Look!" they said. 
With nodding head, 
''There goes Thangbrand, Olafs Priest." 

All the prayers he knew by rote, 

He could preach hke Chrysostome, 510 

From the Fathers he could quote. 
He had even been at Rome. 
A learned clerk, 
A man of mark. 
Was this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 515 

He was quarrelsome and loud, 

And impatient of control. 
Boisterous in the market crowd, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 71 

Boisterous at the wassail-bowl 

Everywhere 520 

Would drink and swear, 
Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

In his house this malcontent 

Could the King no longer bear, 
So to Iceland he was sent 525 

To convert the heathen there. 
And away 
One summer day 
Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

There in Iceland, o'er their books 530 

Pored the people day and night, 
But he did not like their looks. 
Nor the songs they used to write. 
''AH this rhyme 
Is waste of time!" 535 

Grumbled Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

To the alehouse, where he sat. 

Came the Scalds and Saga-men; 
Is it to be wondered at. 

That they quarreled now and then, 540 

When o'er his beer 
Began to leer 
Drunken Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest? 

All the folk in Altafiord 

Boasted of their island grand; 545 



72 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Saying in a single word, 
''Iceland is the finest land 

That the sun 

Doth shine upon!" 
Loud laughed Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 550 

And he answered: "What's the use 

Of this bragging up and down, 
When three women and one goose 
Make a market in your town!" 

Every Scald 555 

Satires scrawled 
On poor Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

Something worse they did than that; 

And what vexed him most of all 
Was a figure in shovel hat, 560 

Drawn in charcoal on the wall; 
With words that go 
Sprawling below, 
''This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest." 

Hardly knowing what he did, 565 

Then he smote them might and main,' 
Thorvald Veile and Veterlid 
Lay there in the alehouse slain. 
"To-day we are gold. 
To-morrow mould!" 570 

Muttered Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 73 

Much in fear of axe and rope, 

Back to Norway sailed he then. 
O, King Olaf! little hope 

Is there of these Iceland men!" 575 

Meekly said, 
With bending head. 
Pious Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

X 
RAUD THE STRONG 

''All the old gods are dead, 
All the wild warlocks fled; 580 

But the White Christ lives and reigns, 
And throughout my wide domains 
His Gospel shall be spread!" 

On the Evangelists 

Thus swore King Olaf. 585 

But still in dreams of the night 

Beheld he the crimson light, 

And heard the voice that defied 

Him who was crucified. 

And challenged him to the fight. 590 

To Sigurd the Bishop 

King Olaf confessed it. 

And Sigurd the Bishop said, 
"The old gods are not dead, 
For the great Thor still reigns, 595 



74 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And among the Jarls and Thanes 
The old witchcraft still is spread." 

Thus to King Olaf 

Said Sigurd the Bishop. 

''Far north in the Salten Fiord, 600 

By rapine, fire, and sword, 
Lives the viking, Raud the Strong; 
All the Godoe Isles belong 
To him and his heathen horde." 

Thus went on speaking 605 

Sigurd the Bishop. 

''A warlock, a wizard is he, 
And lord of the wind and the sea; 
And whichever way he sails, 
He has ever favoring gales, 610 

By his craft in sorcery." 

Here the sign of the cross made 

Devoutly King Olaf. 

"With rites that we both abhor, 
He worships Odin and Thor; 615 

So it cannot yet be said. 
That all the old gods are dead. 
And the warlocks are no more," 

Flushing with anger 

Said Sigurd the Bishop. 620 

Then King Olaf cried aloud; 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 75 

*'I will talk with this mighty Raud, 
And along the Salten Fiord 
Preach the Gospel with my sword, 
Or be brought back in my shroud!" 625 

So northward from Drontheim 

Sailed King Olaf! 



XI 

BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD 

Loud the angry wind was wailing 
As King Olaf's ships came sailing 
Northward out of Drontheim haven 630 

To the mouth of Salten Fiord. 

Though the flying sea-spray drenches 
Fore and aft the rowers' benches, 
Not a single heart is craven 

Of the champions there on board. 635 

All without the Fiord -was quiet, 
But within it storm and riot, 
Such as on his Viking cruises 

Raud the Strong was wont to ride. 

And the sea through all its tide-ways 640 

Swept the reeling vessels sideways, 
As the leaves are swept through sluices. 
When the flood-gates open wide. 



76 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

" 'Tis the warlock! 'tis the demon 

Raud!" cried Sigurd to the seamen; 645 

''But the Lord is not affrighted 

By the witchcraft of His foes." 

To the ship's bow he ascended, 
By his choristers attended, 

Round him were the tapers lighted, 650 

And the sacred incense rose. 

On the bow stood Bishop Sigurd, 
In his robes, as one transfigured, 
And the Crucifix he planted 

High amid the rain and mist. 655 

Then with holy water sprinkled 
All the ship; the mass-bells tinkled: 
Loud the monks around him chanted, 
Loud he read the Evangelist. 

As into the Fiord they darted, 660 

On each side the w^ater parted; 
Down a path like silver molten 

Steadily rowed King Olaf's ships; 

Steadily burned all night the tapers, 
And the White Christ through the vapors 665 
Gleamed across the Fiord of Salten, 
As through John's Apocalypse — 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 77 

Till at last they reached Raud's dwelling 
On the little isle of GeUing; 

Not a guard was at the doorway, 670 

Not a glimmer of light was seen. 

But at anchor, carved and gilded. 
Lay the dragon-ship he builded; 
'Twas the grandest ship in Norway, 

With its crest and scales of green. 675 

Up the stairway, softly creeping, 
To the loft w^here Raud was sleeping, 
With their fists they burst asunder 
Bolt and bar that held the door. 

Drunken with sleep and ale they found him, 680 
Dragged him from his bed and bound him, 
While he stared with stupid wonder, 
At the look and garb they wore. 

Then King Olaf said: ''O Sea-King! 
Little time have we for speaking, 685 

Choose between the good and evil; 
Be baptized, or thou shalt die!" 

But in scorn the heathen scoffer 

Answered: *T disdain thine offer; 

Neither fear I God nor Devil; 690 

Thee and thy Gospel I defy!" 



78 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Then between his jaws distended, 
When his frantic struggles ended, 
Through King Olaf's horn an adder, 

Touched by fire, they forced to ghde. 695 

Sharp his tooth was as an arrow, 

As he gnawed through bone and marrow; 

But without a groan or shudder, 

Raud the Strong blaspheming died. 

Then baptized they all that region, 700 

Swarthy Lap and fair Norwegian, 
Far as swims the salmon, leaping, 
Up the streams of Salten Fiord. 

In their temples Thor and Odin 

Lay in dust and ashes trodden, 705 

As King Olaf, onward sweeping. 

Preached the Gospel with his sword. 

•Then he took the carved and gilded 
Dragon-ship that Raud had builded, 
And the tiller single-handed, 710 

Grasping, steered into the main. 

Southward sailed the sea-gulls o'er him. 
Southward sailed the ship that bore him, 
Till at Drontheim haven landed 

Olaf and his crew again. 715 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 79 

xn 

KING OLAF'S CHRISTMAS 

At Drontheim, Olaf the King 
Heard the bells of Yule-tide ring, 

As he sat in his banquet-hall, 
Drinking the nut-brown ale, 
With his bearded Berserks hale 720 

And tall. 

Three days his Yule-tide feasts 
He held with Bishops and Priests, 

And his horn filled up to the brim; 
But the ale was never too strong, 725 

Nor the Saga-man's tale too long, 

For him. 

O'er his drinking-horn, the sign 
He made of the cross divine. 

As he drank, and muttered his prayers; 730 
But the Berserks evermore 
Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor 

Over theirs. 

The gleams of the fire-light dance 

Upon the helmet and hauberk and lance, 735 

And laugh in the eyes of the King; 
And he cries to Halfred the Scald, 
Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald, 

"Sing!" 



8o TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

''Sing me a song divine, 
With a sword in every line, 

And this shall be thy reward." 
And he loosened the belt at his waist, 
And in front of the singer placed 

His sword. 

"Quern-biter of Hakon the Good, 
Wherewith at a stroke he hewed. 

The millstone through and through. 
And Footbreadth of Thoralf the Strong, 
Were neither so broad nor so long. 
Nor so true.' 

Then the Scald took his harp and sang, 
And loud through the music rang 

The sound of that shining word 
And the harp-strings a clangor made, 
As if they were struck with the blade 

Of a sword. 

And the Berserks round about 
Broke forth into a shout 

That made the rafters ring: 
They smote with their fists on the board, 
And shouted, "Long live the Sword, 

And the King!" 

But the King said, "O my son, 
I miss the bright word in one 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 8i 

Of thy measures and thy rhymes." 
And Halfred the Scald repKed, 
"In another 'twas multipKed 
Three times." 

Then King Olaf raised the hilt 770 

Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt, 
And said, "Do not refuse; 
Count well the gain and the loss, 
Thor's hammer or Christ's cross: 

Choose!" 775 

And Halfred the Scald said, ^'This 
In the name of the Lord I kiss, 

Who on it was crucified!" 
And a shout went round the board, 
"In the name of Christ the Lord, 780 

Who died!" 

Then over the waste of snows 
The noonday sun uprose, 

Through the driving mists revealed. 
Like the Hfting of the Host, 785 

By incense-clouds almost 

Concealed. 

On the shining wall a vast 
And shadowy cross was cast 

From the hills of the lifted sword, 790 

And in foaming cups of ale 



82 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

The Berserks drank *'Was-hael! 
To the Lord!" 

XIII 

THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT 

Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, 

In his ship-yard by the sea, 795 

Whistled, saying, " 'Twould bewilder 
Any man but Thorberg Skafting, 

Any man but me!" 

Near him lay the Dragon stranded, 

Built of old by Raud the Strong, 800 

And King Olaf had commanded 
He should build another Dragon, 

Twice as large and long. 

Therefore whistled Thorberg Skafting, 

As he sat with half-closed eyes, 805 

And his head turned sideways, drafting 

That new vessel for King Olaf 
Twice the Dragon's size. 

Round him busily hewed and hammered 

Mallet huge and heavy axe: 810 

Workmen laughed, and sang and clamored 
Whirred the wheels, that into rigging 
Spun the shining flax! 

All this tumult heard the master — 

It was music to his ear; 815 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 83 

Fancy whispered all the faster, 
"Men shall hear of Thorberg Skafting 
For a hundred year!" 

Workmen sweating at the forges 

Fashioned iron bolt and bar, 820 

Like a warlock's midnight orgies 
Smoked and bubbled the black caldron 

With the boiling tar. 

Did the warlocks mingle in it, 

Thorberg Skafting, any curse? 825 

Could you not be gone a minute 
But some mischief must be doing, 

Turning bad to worse? 

'Twas an ill wind that came wafting, 

From his homestead words of woe; 830 

To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, 

Oft repeating to his workmen, 
Build ye thus and so. 

After long delays returning 

Came the master back by night; 835 

To his ship-yard longing, yearning. 
Hurried he, and did not leave it 

Till the morning's light. 

''Come and see my ship, my darhngl" 

On the morrow said the King; 840 



84 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

"Finished now from keel to carling; 
Never yet was seen in Norway 
Such a wondrous thing!" 

In the ship-yard, idly talking, 

At the ship the workmen stared: 845 

Some one, all their labor balking, 
Down her side had cut deep gashes, 

Not a plank was spared! 

"Death be to the evil-doer!" 

With an oath King Olaf spoke; 850 

"But rewards to his pursuer!" 
And with wrath his face grew redder 

Than his scarlet cloak. 

Straight the master-builder, smiling, 

Answered thus the angry King: 855 

'Cease blaspheming and revihng, 
Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting 

Who has done this thing!" 

Then he chipped and smoothed the planking. 
Till the King, delighted, swore, 680 

With much lauding and much thanking, 
"Handsomer is now my Dragon 
Than she was before!" 

Seventy ells and four extended 

On the grass the vessel's keel; 865 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 85 

High above it, gilt and splendid, 
Rose the figure-head ferocious 
With its crest of steel. 

Then they launched her from the tre-sels, 

In the ship-yard by the sea; 870 

She was grandest of all vessels. 

Never ship was built in Norway 
Half so fine as she! 

The Long Serpent was she christened, 

'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer! 875 

They who to the Saga Hstened 
Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting 
For a hundred year! 

XIV 
THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT 

Safe at harbor in Drontheim bay 

King Olaf's fleet assembled lay, 880 

And, striped with white and blue, 
Downward fluttered sail and banner. 
As alights the screaming lanner; 
Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, 

The Long Serpent's crew. 885 

Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; 
Like a wolf's was his shaggy head. 
His teeth as large and white; 



86 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

His beard, of gray and russet blended, 
Round as a swallow's nest descended; 890 

As standard-bearer he defended 
Olaf's flag in the fight. 

Near him Kolbiorn had his place. 
Like the King in garb and face, 

So gallant and so hale; 859 

Every cabin-boy and varlet 
Wondered at his cloak of scarlet; 
Like a river, frozen and star-lit, 

Gleamed his coat of mail. 

By the bulkhead, tall and dark, 900 

Stood Thrand Rame of Thelemark, 

A figure gaunt and grand; 
On his hoary arm imprinted 
Was an anchor, azure-tinted; 
Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted 905 

Was his brawny hand. 

Einar Tamberskelver, bare 
To the winds his golden hair, 

By the mainmast stood; 
Graceful was his form, and slender, 910 

And his eyes were deep and tender 
As a woman's, in the splendor 

Of her maidenhood. 

In the fore-hold Boirn and Bork 

Watched the sailors at their work: 915 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 87 

Heavens! how they swore! 
Thirty men they each commanded, 
Iron-sinewed, horny-handed, 
Shoulders broad, and chests expanded. 

Tugging at the oar. 920 

These, and many more Hke these. 
With King Olaf sailed the seas, 

Till the waters vast 
Filled them with a vague devotion. 
With the freedom and the motion, 925 

With the roll and roar of ocean 

And the sounding blast. 

When they landed from the fleet. 

How they roared through Drontheim's street. 

Boisterous as the gale! 93° 

How they laughed and stamped and pounded, 
Till the tavern roof resounded, 
And the host looked on astounded, 

As they drank the ale! 

Never saw the wild North Sea, 935 

Such a gallant company 

Sail its billows blue! 
Never, while they cruised and quarrelled, 
Old King Gorm, or Blue-Tooth Harold, 
Owned a ship so well apparelled, 940 

Boasted such a crew! 



88 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

XV 
A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR 

A little bird in the air 

Is singing of Thyri the fair, 

The sister of Svend the Dane; 

And the song of the garrulous bird 945 

In the streets of the town is heard, 

And repeated again and again. 

Hoist up your sails of silk. 

And flee away from each other. 

To King Burislaf, it is said, 950 

Was the beautiful Thyri wed, 

And a sorrowful bride went she; 
And after a week and a day. 
She has fled away and away. 

From his town by the stormy sea. 955 

Hoist up your sails of silk. 
And flee away from each other. 

They say, that through heat and through cold. 
Through weald, they say, and through wold, 

By day and by night, they say, 960 

She has fled; and the gossips report 

She has come to King Olaf's court, 

And the town is all in dismay. 

Hoist up your sails of silk, 

And flee away from each other. 965 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 89 

It is whispered King Olaf has seen, 
Has talked with the beautiful Queen; 

And they wonder how it will end; 
For surely, if here she remain, 
It is war with King Svend the Dane, 970 

And King Burislaf the Vend! 
Hoist up your sails of silk, 
And flee away from each other. 

O, greatest wonder of all! 

It is published in hamlet and hall, 975 

It roars like a flame that is fanned! 
The King — yes, Olaf the King — 
Has wedded her with his ring,- 
And Thyri is Queen in the land! 

Hoist up your sails of silk, 980 

And flee away from each other. 

XVI 
QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS 

Northward over Drontheim, 
Flew the clamorous sea-gulls. 
Sang the lark and linnet 

From the meadows green; 985 

Weeping in her chamber. 
Lonely and unhappy, 
Sat the Drottning Thyri, 
Sat King Olaf's Queen. 



90 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

In at all the windows 990 

Streamed the pleasant sunshine, 
On the roof above her 
Softly cooed the dove; 

But the sound she heard not, 
Nor the sunshine heeded, 995 

For the thoughts of Thyri 
Were not thoughts of love. 

Then King Olaf entered. 
Beautiful as morning, 
Like the sun at Easter 1000 

Shone his happy face; 

In his hand he carried 
Angelicas uprooted, 
With delicious fragrance 

Filling all the place. 1005 

Like a rainy midnight 
Sat the Drottning Thyri, 
Even the smile of Olaf 

Could not cheer her gloom; 

Nor the stalks he gave her 10 10 

With a gracious gesture. 
And with words as pleasant 
As their own perfume. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 91 

In her hand she placed them, 
And her jewelled fingers 1015 

Through the green leaves glistened 
Like the dews of morn; 

But she cast them from her, 
Haughty and indignant, 
On the floor she threw them 1020 

With a look of scorn. 

"Richer presents," said she, 
''Gave King Harald Gormson 
To the Queen, my mother. 

Than such worthless weeds; 1025 

"When he ravaged Norway, 
Laying waste the kingdom, 
Seizing scatt and treasure 
For her royal needs. 

"But thou darest not venture 1030 

Through the Sound to Vendland, 
My domains to rescue 
From King Burislaf; 

"Lest King Svend of Denmark, 
Forked Beard, my brother, 1035 

Scatter all thy vessels 
As the wind the chaff." 



Q2 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Then up sprang King Olaf 
Like a reindeer bounding, 
With an oath he answered 1040 

Thus the luckless Queen: 

''Never yet did Olaf 
Fear King Svend of Denmark; 
This right hand shall hale him 

By his forked chin!" 1045 

Then he left the chamber, 
Thundering through the doorway, 
Loud his steps resounded 
Down the outer stair. 

Smarting with the insult, 1050 

Through the streets of Drontheim 
Strode he red and wrathful. 
With his stately air. 

All his ships he gathered, 
Summoned all his forces, 1055 

Making his war levy 
In the region round; 

Down the coast of Norway, 
Like a flock of sea-gulls, 
Sailed the fleet of Olaf, 1060 

Through the Danish Sound. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 93 

With his own hand fearless, 
Steered he the Long Serpent, 
Strained the creaking cordage, 

Bent each boom and gaff; 1065 

Till in Vendland landing. 
The domains of Thyri 
He redeemed and rescued 
From King Burislaf. 

Then said Olaf, laughing, 1070 

*'Not ten yoke of oxen 
Have the power to draw us 
Like a woman's hair! 

''Now will I confess it, 
Better things are jewels 1075 

Than angelica stalks are 
For a Queen to wear." 

XVII 
KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD 

Loudly the sailors cheered 

Svend of the Forked Beard, 

As with his fleet he steered 1080 

Southward to Vendland; 
Where with their courses hauled 
All were together called, 
Under the Isle of Svald 

Near to the mainland. 1085 



94 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

After Queen Gunhild's death, 
So the old Saga saith, 
Plighted King Svend his faith 

To Sigrid the Haughty; 
And to avenge his bride, 1090 

Soothing her wounded pride. 
Over the waters wide 

King Olaf sought he. 

Still on her scornful face. 

Blushing with deep disgrace, 1095 

Bore she the crimson trace 

Of Olaf's gauntlet; 
Like a malignant star, 
Blazing in heaven afar. 
Red shone the angry scar iioo 

Under her frontlet. 

Oft to King Svend she spake, 
"For thine own honor's sake 
Shalt thou swift vengeance take 

On the vile coward!" 1105 

Until the King at last. 
Gusty and overcast, 
Like a tempestuous blast 
Threatened and lowered. 

Soon as the Spring appeared, mo 

Svend of the Forked Beard 
High his red standard reared. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 95 

Eager for battle; 
While every warlike Dane, 
Seizing his arms again, 1115 

Left all unsown the grain. 

Unhoused the cattle. 

Likewise the Swedish King 

Summoned in haste a Thing, 

Weapons and men to bring 1120 

In aid of Denmark; 
Eric the Norseman, too. 
As the war-tidings flew. 
Sailed with a chosen crew 

From Lapland and Finmark. 1125 

So upon Easter day 

Sailed the three kings away, 

Out of the sheltered bay. 

In the bright season; 
With them Earl Sigvald came, 1130 

Eager for spoil and fame; 
Pity that such a name 

Stooped to such treason! 

Safe under Svald at last, 

Now were their anchors cast, 1135 

Safe from the sea and blast. 

Plotted the three kings; 
While, with a base intent, 
Southward Earl Sigvald went. 



96 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

On a foul errand bent, 1140 

Unto the Sea-kings. 

Thence to hold on his course, 
Unto King Olaf's force, 
Lying within the hoarse 

Mouths of Stet-haven; 1145 

Him to ensnare and bring, 
Unto the Danish king. 
Who his dead corse would fling 

Forth to the raven! 

XVIII 
KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD 

On the gray sea-sands 1150 

King Olaf stands, 
Northward and seaward 
He points with his hands. 

With eddy and whirl 

The sea-tides curl, 1155 

Washing the sandals 

Of Sigvald the Earl. 

The mariners shout, 

The ships swing about. 

The yards are all hoisted, 11 60 

The sails flutter out. 



I 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 97 

The war-horns are played, 

The anchors are weighed, 

Like moths in the distance 

The sails flit and fade. 11 65 

The sea is hke lead. 
The harbor lies dead. 
As a corse on the sea-shore, 
Whose spirit has fled! 

On that fatal day, 11 70 

The histories say, 
Seventy vessels 
Sailed out of the bay. 

But soon scattered wide 

O'er the billows they ride, 1175 

While Sigvald and Olaf 

Sail side by side. 

Cried the Earl: ''Follow me! 

I your pilot will be. 

For I know all the channels 1180 

Where flows the deep sea!" 

So into the strait 

Where his foes lie in wait, 

Gallant King Olaf 

Sails to his fate! 1185 



98 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Then the sea-fog veils 
The ships and their sails; 
Queen Sigrid the Haughty, 
Thy vengeance prevails! 



XIX 

KING OLAF's war-horns 

"Strike the sails!" King Olaf said; 1190 

''Never shall men of mine take flight; 

Never from battle I fled, 

Never away from my foes! 
Let God dispose 

Of my life in the fight!" 1195 



Sound the horns!" said Olaf the King; 
And suddenly through the drifting brume 
The blare of the horns began to ring, 
Like the terrible trumpet shock 

Of Regnarock, 1200 

On the Day of Doom! 

Louder and louder the war-horns sang 

Over the level floor of the flood; 

All the sails came down with a clang. 

And there in the mist overhead 1205 

The sun hung red 
As a drop of blood. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 99 

Drifting down on the Danish fleet 

Three together the ships were lashed, 

So that neither should turn and retreat; 1210 

In the midst, but in front of the rest 

The burnished crest 
Of the Serpent flashed. 

King Olaf stood on the quarter-deck. 

With bow of ash and arrows of oak, 1215 

His gilded shield was without a fleck, 

His helmet inlaid with gold. 

And in many a fold 
Hung his crimson cloak. 

On the forecastle Ulf the Red 1220 

Watched the lashing of the ships; 
"If the Serpent lie so far ahead. 
We shall have hard work of it here," 

Said he with a sneer 
On his bearded lips. 1225 

King Olaf laid an arrow on string, 
''Have I a coward on board?" said he. 
"Shoot it another way, O King!" 

Sullenly answered Ulf, 

The old sea-wolf; 1230 

"You have need of me!" 

In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, 
Sweeping down with his fifty rowers; 

LOFC 



o TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes; 
And on board of the Iron Beard 1235 

Earl Eric steered 
On the left with his oars. 

These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, 
At home with their wives had better stay. 
Than come within reach of my Serpent's sting: 
But where Eric the Norseman leads 1241 

Heroic deeds 
Will be done to-day!" 

Then as together the vessels crashed, 
Eric severed the cables of hide, 1245 

With which King Olaf's ships were lashed, 
And left them to drive and drift 

With the currents swift 
Of the outward tide. 

Louder the war-horns growl and snarl, 1250 

Sharper the dragons bite and sting! 
Eric the son of Hakon Jarl 
A death-drink salt as the sea 

Pledges to thee, 
Olaf the King! 1255 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN loi 

XX 

EINAR TAMBERSKELVER 

It was Einar Tamberskelver 

Stood beside the mast; 
From his yew-bow tipped with silver, 

Flew the arrows fast; 
Aimed at Eric unavailing, 1260 

As he sat concealed. 
Half behind the quarter-railing, 

Half behind his shield. 

First an arrow struck the tiller, 

Just above his head; 1265 

"Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller," 

Then Earl Eric said. 
"Sing the song of Hakon dying, 
Sing his funeral wail!" 
And another arrow flying 1270 

Grazed his coat of mail. 

Turning to a Lapland yeoman, 

As the arrow passed, 
Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman 

Standing by the mast." 1275 

Sooner than the word was spoken 

Flew the yeoman's shaft; 
Einar's bow in twain was broken, 

Einar only laughed. 



> TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

''What was that?" said Olaf, standing 1280 

On the quarter-deck. 
"Something heard I hke the stranding 
Of a shattered wreck." 
Einar then, the arrow taking 

From the loosened string, 1285 

Answered, "That was Norway breaking 
From thy hand, O King!" 

"Thou art but a poor diviner," 

Straightway Olaf said; 
"Take thy bow, and swifter, Einar, 1290 

Let thy shafts be sped." 
Of his bows the fairest choosing, 

Reached he from above; 
Einar saw the blood-drops oozing 

Through his iron glove. 1295 

But the bow was thin and narrow; 

At the first assay, 
O'er its head he drew the arrow. 

Flung the bow away; 
Said, with hot and angry temper 1300 

Flushing in his cheek, 
"Olaf! for so great a Kamper 

Are thy bows too weak!" 

Then, with smile of joy defiant 

On his beardless hp, 1305 

Scaled he, light and self-reliant, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 103 

Eric's dragon-ship. 
Loose his golden locks were flowing, 

Bright his armor gleamed; 
Like Saint Michael overthrowing 1310 

Lucifer he seemed. 

XXI 
KING OLAF'S death-drink 

All day has the battle raged, 
All day have the ships engaged, 
But not yet is assuaged 
The vengeance of Eric the Earl. 13 15 

The decks with blood are red, 
The arrows of death are sped, 
The ships are filled with the dead, 
And the spears the champions hurl. 

They drift as wrecks on the tide, 1320 

The grappling-irons are plied. 
The boarders cHmb up the side, 
The shouts are feeble and few. 

Ah! never shall Norway again 
See her sailors come back o'er the main ; 1325 
They all lie wounded or slain, 
Or asleep in the billows blue! 

On the deck stands Olaf the King, 
Around him whistle and sing 



I04 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

The spears that the foemen fling, 1330 

And the stones they hurl with their hands. 

In the midst of the stones and the spears, 
Kolbiorn, the marshal, appears, 
His shield in the air he uprears. 

By the side of King Olaf he stands. 1335 

Over the slippery wreck 
Of the Long Serpent's deck 
Sweeps Eric with hardly a check, 
His lips w4th anger are pale; 

He hews with his axe at the mast, 1340 

Till it falls, with the sails overcast, 
Like a snow-covered pine in the vast 
Dim forests of Orkadale. 

Seeking King Olaf then. 

He rushes aft with his men, 1345 

As a hunter into the den 

Of the bear, when he stands at bay. 

''Remember Jarl Hakon!" he cries; 
When lo! on his wondering eyes. 
Two kingly figures arise, 1350 

Two Olafs in warlike array! 

Then Kolbiorn speaks in the ear 
Of King Olaf a word of cheer, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 105 

In a whisper that none may hear, 

With a smile on his tremulous lip; 1355 

Two shields raised high in the air, 
Two flashes of golden hair, 
Two scarlet meteors' glare, 

And both have leaped from the ship. 

Earl Eric's men in the boats 1360 

Seize Kolbiorn's shield as it floats. 
And cry, from their hoary throats, 
''See! it is Olaf the King!" 

While far on the opposite side 
Floats another shield on the tide, 1365 

Like a jewel set in the wide 
Sea-current's eddying ring. 

There is told a wonderful tale, 
How the King stripped off his mail. 
Like leaves of the brown sea-kale, 1370 

As he swam beneath the main; 

But the young grew old and gray, 
And never, by night or by day. 
In his kingdom of Norroway 
Was King Olaf seen again! 1375 



io6 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

xxn 

THE NUN OF NIDAROS 

In the convent of Drontheim, 

Alone in her chamber 

Knelt Astrid the Abbess, 

At midnight, adoring. 

Beseeching, entreating 1380 

The Virgin and Mother. 

She heard in the silence 

The voice of one speaking. 

Without in the darkness, 

In gusts of the night-wind 1385 

Now louder, now nearer. 

Now lost in the distance. 

The voice of a stranger 

It seemed as she listened. 

Of some one who answered, 1390 

Beseeching, imploring, 

A cry from afar off 

She could not distinguish. 

The voice of Saint John, 

The beloved disciple, 1395 

Who wandered and waited 

The Master's appearance. 

Alone in the darkness. 

Unsheltered and friendless. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 107 

^'It is accepted 1400 

The angry defiance, 
The challenge of battle! 
It is accepted, 
But not with the weapons 
Of war that thou wieldest! 1405 

"Cross against corselet, 
Love against hatred. 
Peace-cry for war-cry! 
Patience is powerful; 
He that o'ercometh 141° 

Hath power o'er the nations! 

"As torrents in summer. 
Half dried in their channels, 
Suddenly rise, though the 
Sky is still cloudless, 14 15 

For rain has been falling 
Far off at their fountains: 

"So hearts that are fainting 
Grow full to o'erflowing. 
And they that behold it 1420 

Marvel, and know not 
That God at their fountains 
Far off has been raining! 

"Stronger than steel 
Is the sword of the Spirit; 1425 



[o8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Swifter than arrows 
The Hght of the truth is, 
Greater than anger 
Is love, and subdueth! 

"Thou art a phantom, 1430 

A shape of the sea-mist, 
A shape of the brumal 
Rain, and the darkness 
Fearful and formless; 
Day dawns and thou art not! 1435 



^ 



The dawn is not distant, 

Nor is the night starless; 

Love is eternal! 

God is still God, and 

His faith shall not fail us; 1440 

Christ is eternal!" 



INTERLUDE 

A strain of music closed the tale, 
A low, monotonous, funeral wail, 
That with its cadence, wild and sweet, 
Made the long Saga more complete. 

"Thank God," the Theologian said, 
"The reign of violence is dead, 
Or dying surely from the world; 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 109 

While Love triumphant reigns instead, 

And in a brighter sky o'erhead 

His blessed banners are unfurled. 10 

And most of all thank God for this: 

The war and waste of clashing creeds 

Now end in words, and not in deeds, 

And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, 

For thoughts that men call heresies. 15 

'I stand without here in the porch, 
I hear the bell's melodious din, 
I hear the organ peal within, 
I hear the prayer, with words that scorch 
Like sparks from an inverted torch, 20 

I hear the sermon upon sin. 
With threatenings of the last account. 
And all, translated in the air, 
Reach me but as our dear Lord's Prayer, 
And as the Sermon on the Mount. 25 

''Must it be Calvin, and not Christ? 
Must it be Athanasian creeds. 
Or holy water, books, and beads ? 
Must strugghng souls remain content 
With councils and decrees of Trent? 30 

And can it be enough for these 
The Christian Church the year embalms 
With evergreens and boughs and palms. 
And fill the air with Utanies ? 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

''I know that yonder Pharisee 35 

Thanks God that he is not Uke me; 
In my humiUation dressed, 
I only stand and beat my breast, 
And pray for human charity. 

"Not to one church alone, but seven, 40 

The voice prophetic spake from heaven; 
And unto each the promise came, 
Diversified, but still the same; 
For him that overcometh are 
The new name written on the stone, 45 

The raiment white, the crown, the throne, 
And I will give him the Morning Star! 

"Ah! to how many Faith has been 
No evidence of things unseen. 
But a dim shadow, that recasts 50 

The creed of the Phantasiasts, 
For whom no Man of Sorrows died. 
For whom the Tragedy Divine 
Was but a symbol and a sign. 
And Christ a phantom crucified! ' 55 

"For others a diviner creed 
Is Hving in the life they lead. 
The passing of their beautiful feet 
Blesses the pavement of the street. 
And air their looks and words repeat 60 

Old Fuller's saying, wise and sweet, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN iii 

Not as a vulture, but a dove, 
The Holy Ghost came from above. 

"And this brings back to me a tale 
So sad the hearer v^ell may quail, 65 

And question if such things can be; 
Yet in the chronicles of Spain 
Down the dark pages runs this stain, 
And naught can wash them white again. 
So fearful is the tragedy." 70 



THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE 

TORQUEMADA 

In the heroic days when Ferdinand 

And Isabella ruled the Spanish land, 

And Torquemada, with his subtle brain, 

Ruled them, as Grand Inquisitor of Spain, 

In a great castle near Valladolid, 5 

Moated and high and by fair woodlands hid. 

There dwelt, as from the chronicles we learn. 

An old Hidalgo proud and taciturn. 

Whose name has perished, with his towers of stone. 

And all his actions save this one alone; to 

This one, so terrible, perhaps 'twere best 

If it, too, were forgotten with the rest; 

Unless, perchance, our eyes can see therein 

The martyrdom triumphant o'er the sin; 



112 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

A double picture, with its gloom and glow, 15 

The splendor overhead, the death below. 

This sombre man counted each day as lost 

On which his feet no sacred threshold crossed; 

And when he chanced the passing Host to meet. 

He knelt and prayed devoutly in the street; 20 

Oft he confessed; and with each mutinous thought. 

As with wild beasts at Ephesus, he fought. 

In deep contrition scourged himself in Lent, 

Walked in processions, with his head down bent. 

At plays of Corpus Christi oft was seen, 25 

And on Palm Sunday bore his bough of green. 

His only pastime was to hunt the boar 

Through tangled thickets of the forest hoar, 

Or with his jingling mules to hurry down 

To some grand bull-fight in the neighboring town, 30 

Or in the crowd with lighted taper stand, 

When Jews were burned, or banished from the land. 

Then stirred within him a tumultuous joy; 

The demon whose delight is to destroy 

Shook him, and shouted with a trumpet tone, 35 

''Kill! kill! and let the Lord find out His own!" 

And now, in that old castle in the wood. 
His daughters, in the dawn of womanhood. 
Returning from their convent school, had made 
Resplendent with their bloom the forest shade, 40 
Reminding him of their dead mother's face. 
When first she came into that gloomy place — 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 113 

A memory in his heart as dim and sweet 

As moonHght in a soKtary street, 

Where t]ie same rays, that lift the sea, are thrown 4 5 

Lovely but powerless upon walls of stone. 

These two fair daughters of a mother dead 

Were all the dream had left him as it fled. 

A joy at first, and then a growing care 

As if a voice within him cried, "Beware!" 50 

A vague presentiment of impending doom, 

Like ghostly footsteps in a vacant room, 

Haunted him day and night; a formless fear 

That death to some one of his house was near. 

With dark surmises of a hidden crime, 55 

Made life itself a death before its time. 

Jealous, suspicious, with no sense of shame, 

A spy upon his daughters he became; 

With velvet shppers, noiseless on the floors. 

He glided softly through half-open doors; 60 

Now in the room, and now upon the stair. 

He stood beside them ere they were aware; 

He listened in the passage when they talked. 

He watched them from the casement when they 

walked, 
He saw the gypsy haunt the river's side, 65 

He saw the monk among the cork-trees glide; 
And, tortured by the mystery and the doubt 
Of some dark secret, past his finding out. 
Baffled he paused; then reassured again 
Pursued the flying phantom of his brain. 70 

He watched them even when they knelt in church; 



114 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And then, descending lower in his search, 
Questioned the servants, and with eager eyes 
Listened incredulous to their repHes; 
The gypsy? none had seen her in the wood! 75 
The monk? a mendicant in search of food! 



At length the awful revelation came, 
Crushing at once his pride of birth and name, 
The hopes his yearning bosom forward casty. I 

And the ancestral glories of the past; 80 

All fell together, crumbling in disgrace, 
A turret rent from battlement to base. 
His daughters talking in the dead of night 
In their own chamber, and without a light, 
Listening, as he was wont, he overheard, 85 

And learned the dreadful secret, word by word; 
And hurrying from his castle, with a cry 
He raised his hands to the unpitying sky. 
Repeating one dread word, till bush and tree 
Caught it, and shuddering answered, ''Heresy! " 90 

Wrapped in his cloak, his hat drawn o'er his face, 

Now hurrying forward, now with lingering pace, 

He walked all night the alleys of his park. 

With one unseen companion in the dark. 

The Demon who within him lay in wait, 95 

And by his presence turned his love to hate, * 

Forever muttering in an undertone, 

''Kill! kill! and let the Lord find out His own!" 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 115 

Upon the morrow, after early Mass, 

While yet the dew was gHstening on the grass, 100 

And all the woods were musical with birds, 

The old Hidalgo, uttering fearful words. 

Walked homeward with the Priest, and in his room 

Summoned his trembling daughters to their doom. 

W^hen questioned, with brief answers they replied, 

Nor when accused, evaded or denied; 106 

Expostulations, passionate appeals. 

All that the human heart most fears or feels, 

In vain the Priest with earnest voice essayed. 

In vain the father threatened, wept, and prayed; 1 1 o 

Until at last he said, with haughty mien, 

''The Holy Ofi&ce, then, must interv^ene!" 

And now the Grand Inquisitor of Spain, 

With all the fifty horsemen of his train. 

His awful name resounding, like the blast 115 

Of funeral trumpets, as he onward passed, 

Came to Valladolid, and there began 

To harry the rich Jews with fire and ban. 

To him the Hidalgo w^ent, and at the gate 

Demanded audience on affairs of state, 120 

And in a secret chamber stood before 

A venerable graybeard of fourscore. 

Dressed in the hood and habit of a friar; 

Out of his eyes flashed a consuming fire, 

And in his hand the mystic horn he held, 125 

Which poison and all noxious charms dispelled. 

He heard in silence the Hidalgo's tale, 



ii6 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Then answered in a voice that made him quail: 

*'Son of the Church! when Abraham of old 

To sacrifice his only son was told, 130 

He did not pause to parley nor protest, 

But hastened to obey the Lord's behest. 

In him it was accounted righteousness; 

The Holy Church expects of thee no less!" 

A sacred frenzy seized the father's brain, 135 

And Mercy from that hour implored in vain. 

Ah! who will e'er believe the words I say? 

His daughters he accused, and the same day 

They both were cast into the dungeon's gloom, 

That dismal antechamber of the tomb, 140 

Arraigned, condemned, and sentenced to the flame, 

The secret torture and the public shame. 

Then to the Grand Inquisitor once more 

The Hidalgo went, more eager than before, 

And said: "When Abraham offered up his son, 145 

He clave the wood wherewith it might be done. 

By his example taught, let me too bring 

Wood from the forest for my offering!" 

And the deep voice, without a pause, replied: 

''Son of the Church! by faith now justified, 150 

Complete thy sacrifice, even as thou wilt; 

The Church absolves thy conscience from all guilt!" 

Then this most wretched father went his way 

Into the woods, that round his castle lay, 

Where once his daughters in their childhood played 

With their young mother in the sun and shade. 156 



I 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 117 

Now all the leaves had fallen; the branches bare 

Made a perpetual moaning in the air 

And screaming from their eyries overhead 

The ravens sailed athwart the sky of lead. 160 

With his own hands he lopped the boughs and 

bound 
Fagots, that crackled with foreboding sound, 
And on his mules, caparisoned and gay 
With bells and tassels, sent them on their way. 

Then with his mind on one dark purpose bent, 165 
Again to the Inquisitor he went. 
And said: ''Behold, the fagots I have brought, 
And now, lest my atonement be as naught. 
Grant me one more request, one last desire — 
With my own hand to light the funeral fire!" 170 
And Torquemada answered from his seat, 
"Son of the Church! Thine offering is complete; 
Her servants through all ages shall not cease 
To magnify thy deed. Depart in peace!" 

Upon the market-place, builded of stone 175 

The scaffold rose, whereon Death claimed his own. 
At the four corners, in stern attitude. 
Four statues of the Hebrew Prophets stood. 
Gazing with calm indifference in their eyes 
Upon this place of human sacrifice, 180 

Round which was gathering fast the eager crowd. 
With clamor of voices dissonant and loud, 
And everv roof and window was alive 



ii8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

With restless gazers, swarming like a hive. 
The church-bells tolled, the chant of monks drew 
near, 185 

Loud trumpets stammered forth their notes of fear, 
A line of torches smoked along the street, 
There was a stir, a rush, a tramp of feet. 
And, with its banners floating in the air. 
Slowly the long procession crossed the square, 190 
And, to the statues of the Prophets bound. 
The victims stood, with fagots piled around. 
Then all the air a blast of trumpets shook. 
And louder sang the monks with bell and book, 
And the Hidalgo, lofty, stern, and proud, 195 

Lifted his torch, and, bursting through the crowd, 
Lighted in haste the fagots, and then fled, 
Lest those imploring eyes should strike him dead! 

O pitiless skies! why did your clouds retain 

For peasants' fields their floods of hoarded rain ? 200 

O pitiless earth! why opened no abyss 

To bury in its chasm a crime Hke this? 

That night, a mingled column of fire and smoke 

From the dark thickets of the forest broke, 

And, glaring o'er the landscape leagues away, 205 

Made all the fields and hamlets bright as day. 

Wrapped in a sheet of flame the castle blazed, 

And as the villagers in terror gazed. 

They saw the figure of that cruel knight 

Lean from a window in the turret's height, 210 

His ghastly face illumined with the glare. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 119 

His hands upraised above his head in prayer, 
Till the floor sank beneath him, and he fell 
Down the black hollow of that burning well. 

Three centuries and more above his bones 215 

Have piled the oblivious years like funeral stones; 
His name has perished with him, and no trace 
Remains on earth of his afflicted race; 
But Torquemada's name, with clouds o'ercast, 
Looms in the distant landscape of the Past, 220 
Like a burnt tower upon a blackened heath, 
Lit by the fires of burning woods beneath! 



INTERLUDE 

Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom. 

That cast upon each listener's face 

Its shadow, and for some brief space 

Unbroken silence filled the room. 

The Jew was thoughtful and distressed; 

Upon his memory thronged and pressed 

The persecution of his race. 

Their wrongs and sufferings and disgrace; 

His head was sunk upon his breast. 

And from his eyes alternate came 

Flashes of wrath and tears of shame. 

The student first the silence broke. 
As one who long has lain in wait, 
With purpose to retaliate, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

And thus he dealt the avenging stroke. 15 

"In such a company as this, 
A tale so tragic seems amiss, 
That by its terrible control 
O'ermasters and drags down the soul 
Into a fathomless abyss. 20 

The Italian Tales that you disdain, 
Some merry Night of Straparole, 
Or Machiavelli's Belphagor, 
Would cheer us and delight us more. 
Give greater pleasure and less pain 25 

Than your grim tragedies of Spain!" 

And here the Poet raised his hand, 

With such entreaty and command, 

It stopped discussion at its birth. 

And said: "The story I shall tell 30 

Has meaning in it, if not mirth; 

Listen, and hear what once befell 

The merry birds of Killingworthl" 



THE POET'S TALE 

THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH 

It was the season, when through all the land 
The merle and mavis build, and building sing 

Those lovely lyrics, written by His hand, 

Whom Saxon Caedmon calls the BHthe-heart King; 

When on the boughs the purple buds expand, 5 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 121 

The banners of the vanguard of the Spring, 
And rivulets, rejoicing, rush and leap, 
And v^ave their fluttering signals from the steep. 

The robin and the blue-bird, piping loud, 

Filled all the blossoming orchards with their 
glee; 

The sparrows chirped as if they still were proud 1 1 
Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned be; 

And hungry crows assembled in a crowd. 
Clamored their piteous prayer incessantly, 

Knowing who hears the ravens cry, and said: 15 

''Give us, O Lord, this day our daily breadl" 

Across the Sound the birds of passage sailed. 
Speaking some unknown language strange and 
sweet 

Of tropic isle remote, and passing hailed 

The village with the cheers of all their fleet; 20 

Or quarrelling together, laughed and railed 
Like foreign sailors, landed in the street 

Of seaport town, and with outlandish noise 

Of oaths and gibberish frightening girls and boys. 

Thus came the jocund Spring in Killingworth, 25 
In fabulous days, some hundred years ago; 

And thrifty farmers, as they tilled the earth. 
Heard with alarm the cawing of the crow, 

That mingled with the universal mirth, 

Cassandra-like, prognosticating woe; 30 



122 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

They shook their heads, and doomed with dreadful 

words 
To swift destruction the whole race of birds. 

And a town-meeting was convened straightway 
To set a price upon the guilty heads 

Of these marauders, who, in Heu of pay, 35 

Levied black-mail upon the garden beds 

And corn-fields, and beheld without dismay 

The awful scarecrow, with his fluttering shreds; 

The skeleton that waited at their feast, 

Whereby their sinful pleasure was increased. 40 

Then from his house, a temple painted white, 
With fluted columns, and a roof of red. 

The Squire came forth, august and splendid sight! 
Slowly descending, with majestic tread, 

Three flights of steps, nor looking left nor right, 45 
Down the long street he walked, as one who said, 

^'A town that boasts inhabitants like me 

Can have no lack of good society!" 

The Parson, too, appeared, a man austere. 

The instinct of whose nature was to kill; 50 

The wrath of God he preached from year to year. 
And read, with fervor, Edwards on the Will; 

His favorite pastime was to slay the deer 
In Summer on some Adirondac hill; 

E'en now, while walking down the rural lane, 55 

He lopped the wayside lilies with his cane. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



123 



From the Academy, whose belfry crowned 
The hill of Science with its vane of brass, 

Came the Preceptor, gazing idly round, 
Now at the clouds, and now at the green grass, 60 

And all absorbed in reveries profound 
Of fair Almira in the upper class, 

Who was, as in a sonnet he had said, 

As pure as water, and as good as bread. 

And next the Deacon issued from his door, 65 

In his voluminous neck-cloth, white as snow; 

A suit of sable bombazine he wore; 

His form was ponderous, and his 'step was slow; 

There never was so wise a man before; 

He seemed the incarnate "Well, I told you so! " 70 

And to perpetuate his great renown 

There was a street named after him in town. 

These came together in the new town-hall, 
With sundry farmers from the region round. 

The Squire presided, dignified and tall, 75 

His air impressive and his reasoning sound; 

111 fared it with the birds, both great and small; 
Hardly a friend in all that crowd they found. 

But enemies enough, who every one 

Charged them with all the crimes beneath the sun. 80 

When they had ended, from his place apart. 

Rose the Preceptor, to redress the wrong. 

And, trembhng like a steed before the start. 



124 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Looked round bewildered on the expectant throng; 
Then thought of fair Almira, and took heart 85 

To speak out what was in him, clear and strong, 
Alike regardless of their smile or frown, 
And quite determined not to be laughed down. 

"Plato, anticipating the Reviewers, 

From his Republic banished without pity 90 

The Poets; in this little town of yours, 

You put to death, by means of a Committee, 
The ballad-singers and the Troubadours, 

The street-musicians of the heavenly city, 
The birds, who make sweet music for us all 95 

In our dark hours, as David did for Saul. 

"The thrush that carols at the dawn of day 
From the green steeples of the piny wood; 

The oriole in the elm; the noisy jay, 

Jargoning like a foreigner at his food; 100 

The blue-bird balanced on some topmost spray. 
Flooding with melody the neighborhood; 

Linnet and meadow-lark, and all the throng, 

That dwell in nests, and have the gift of song. 

"You slay them all! and wherefore? for the gain 
Of a scant handful more or less of wheat, 106 

Or rye, or barley, or some other grain. 

Scratched up at random by industrious feet. 

Searching for worm or weevil after rain! 

Or a few cherries, that are not so sweet no 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 125 

As are the songs these uninvited guests 
Sing at their feasts with comfortable breasts. 

"Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? 

Do you ne'er think who made them, and who 
taught 
The dialect they speak, where melodies 1 1 5 

Alone are the interpreters of thought? 
Whose household words are songs in many keys, 

Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! 
Whose habitations in the tree-tops even 
Are half-way houses on the road to heaven! 120 

"Think, every morning when the sun peeps through 
The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, 

How jubilant the happy birds renew 
Their old, melodious madrigals of love! 

And when you think of this, remember, too, 125 
'Tis always morning somewhere, and above 

The awakening continent, from shore to shore. 

Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. 

"Think of your woods and orchards without birds! 

Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams 130 
As in an idiot's brain remembered words 

Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams! 
Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds 

Make up for the lost music, when your teams 
Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more 135 
Tlic feathered gleaners follow to your door? 



126 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

''What! would you rather see the incessant stir 
Of insects in the windrows of the hay, 

And hear the locust and the grasshopper 

Their melancholy hurdy-gurdies play? 140 

Is this more pleasant to you than the whirr 
Of meadow-lark, and its sweet roundelay, 

Or twitter of little field-fares, as you take 

Your nooning in the shade of bush and brake? 

' ' You call them thieves and pillagers ; but know 1 4 5 
They are the winged wardens of your farms. 

Who from the corn-fields drive the insidious foe. 
And from your harvests keep a hundred harms; 

Even the blackest of them all, the crow. 

Renders good service as your man-at-arms, 150 

Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. 

And crying havoc on the slug and snail. 

"How can I teach your children gentleness, 
And mercy to the weak, and reverence 

For Life, which, in its weakness or excess, 155 

Is still a gleam of God's omnipotence, 

Or Death, which, seeming darkness, is no less 
The selfsame light, although averted hence. 

When by your laws, your actions, and your speech. 

You contradict the very things I teach?" 160 

With this he closed; and through the audience went 

A murmur, like the rustle of dead leaves; 
The farmers laughed and nodded, and some bent 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 127 

Their yellow heads together like their sheaves; 
Men have no faith in fine-spun sentiment 165 

Who put their trust in bullocks and in beeves. 
The birds were doomed; and, as the record shows, 
A bounty offered for the heads of crows. 

There was another audience out of reach, 

Who had no voice nor vote in making laws, 170 

But in the papers read his Httle speech, 

And crowned his modest temples with applause; 

They made him conscious, each one more than each. 
He still was victor, vanquished in their cause. 

Sweetest of all the applause he won from thee, 175 

O fair Almira at the Academy! 

And so the dreadful massacre began; 

O'er fields and orchards, and o'er woodland crests, 
The ceaseless fusillade of terror ran. 

Dead fell the birds, with blood-stains on their 
breasts, 180 

Or wounded crept away from sight of man, 

While the young died of famine in their nests; 
A slaughter to be told in groans, not words, 
The very St. Bartholomew of Birds! 

The Summer came, and all the birds were dead; 185 
The days were like hot coals; the very ground 

Was burned to ashes; in the orchards fed 
Myriads of caterpillars, and around 

The cultivated fields and garden beds 



128 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

Hosts of devouring insects crawled, and found 190 
No foe to check their march, till they had made 
The land a desert without leaf or shade. 

Devoured by worms, like Herod, was the town, 
Because, like Herod, it had ruthlessly 

Slaughtered the Innocents. From the trees spun 
down 195 

The canker-worms upon the passers-by, 

Upon each woman's bonnet, shawl, and gown, 
Who shook them off with just a Httle cry; 

They were the terror of each favorite walk. 

The endless theme of all the village talk. 200 

The farmers grew impatient, but a few 

Confessed their error, and would not complain, 

For after all, the best thing one can do 
When it is raining, is to let it rain. 

Then they repealed the law, although they knew 205 
It would not call the dead to life again; 

As school-boys, finding their mistake too late, 

Drew a wet sponge across the accusing slate. 

That year in Killingworth the Autumn came 

Without the light of his majestic look, 210 

The wonder of the falling tongues of flame, 
The illumined pages of his Doom's-Day book. 

A few lost leaves blushed crimson with their 
shame, 
And drowned themselves despairing in the brook, 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 129 

While the wild wind went moaning everywhere, 2 1 5 
Lamenting the dead children of the air! 

But the next Spring a stranger sight was seen, 
A sight that never yet by bard was sung, 

As great a wonder as it would have been 

If some dumb animal had found a tongue I 220 

A wagon, overarched with evergreen, 

Upon whose boughs were wicker cages hung, 

All full of singing birds, came down the street. 

Filling the air with music wild and sweet. 

From all the country round these birds were 
brought, 

By order of the town, with anxious quest, 226 
And, loosened from their wicker prisons, sought 

In woods and fields the places they loved best, 
Singing loud canticles, which many thought 

Were satires to the authorities addressed, 230 
While others, listening in green lanes, averred 
Such lovely music never had been heard! 

But blither still and louder carolled they 
Upon the morrow, for they seemed to know^ 

It was fair Almira's wedding-day, 235 

And everywhere, around, above, below, 

When the Preceptor bore his bride away, 
Their songs burst forth in joyous overflow, 

And a new heaven bent over a new earth 

Amid the sunny farms of Killingworth. 240 



I30 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

FINALE 

The hour was late; the fire burned low, 
The landlord's eyes were closed in sleep, 
And near the story's end a deep 
Sonorous sound at times was heard. 
As when the distant bagpipes blow. 
At this all laughed; the Landlord stirred, 
As one awaking from a swound. 
And, gazing anxiously around, 
Protested that he had not slept, 
But only shut his eyes, and kept 
His ears attentive to each word. 

Then all arose, and said ''Good Night." 
Alone remained the drowsy Squire 
To rake the embers of the fire. 
And quench the waning parlor light; 
While from the windows, here and there, 
The scattered lamps a moment gleamed, 
And the illumined hostel seemed 
The constellation of the Bear, 
Downward, athwart the misty air, 
Sinking and setting toward the sun. 
Far off the village clock struck one. 



• not.es 

PRELUDE 

THE WAYSIDE INN 

I. Sudbury. A town about thirty miles west of Boston. 

3. Wayside Inn. The famous Red Horse Inn, a beauti- 
ful old Colonial mansion, still an object of pilgrimage to 
sightseers. 

7. Hostelry. Inn. 

ID. When men. The inn was originally the country 
residence of an Englishman named Howe, but his descend- 
ants lost their fortune and converted it into an inn. 

12. Hobgoblin Hall. A haunted house. 

15. Crazy. Cracked and rickety. 

22. deeds. Cinders. 

30. Wattled. Wattles are the fleshy excrescence under 
the head of a cock or turkey. 

32. Red Horse. In old days some figure or device was 
always placed on the sign of an inn. 

43. Weir. A dam or fence across a river. 

51. Wainscot. Wooden panellings on the wall of a 
room. 

53. Princess Mary. Mary, Queen of Scots, who was 
reputed to have been very beautiful. 

55. Spinet. An instrument resembling a piano, but very 
much smaller. 

60. Coat-of-arms. Devices originally granted by the 
Crown to families, as a mark of distinction. 

65. Major Molineanx. The inscription on the pane is, 
"William Molineaux, jr., esq., June 24, 1774." See Haw- 
thorne's story. My Kinsman, Major Molineaux. 

63. Rhyfnes. These are: 

"What do you think? 
Here is good drink. 
Perhaps you may not know it; 
If not in haste, 
Do stop and taste! 
You merry folk will show it." 

131 



132 NOTES 

icx). Sir William, etc. These were the landlord's an- 
cestors. 

104. Gules. Vertical red lines. 

105. Chevron argent. Two silver bars meeting at an 
angle in the centre of the shield. 

107. Wyvern. A creature part dragon and part serpent, 
used in heraldry. Part-per-pale means that it was pierced 
through the middle by a perpendicular line. 

109. Scroll. A motto was usually inscribed beneath the 
shield, although some arms have only the simple family name. 

127. Tome. A large volume. 

128. Vellum. A fine leather, prepared from the skins of 
sheep and goats. 

128. Bedight. Clothed, adorned. 

130. Florence, etc. Recalling the Romance of Medi- 
eval Italy. 

133. Hauberk. A coat of mail made of small, over- 
lapping steel rings, and thus very flexible. 

133. Helm. Helmet. 

135. Hawk. Hawks or falcons were trained to hunt 
other birds, and the sport was very popular. Everyone had 
his favorite falcon, which was carried perched upon the wrist. 

139. Charle?nagne. Charles the Great (742-814). He 
was the first German king to be crowned by the Pope as 
Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, which included a 
large part of Italy. 

140. Merlin. A famous wizard who lived at King 
Arthur's court. 

140. Mortd'Arthtire. Literally, the death of Arthur. A 
series of romances describing the life of Arthur and the 
famous exploits of his knights. 

142. Flores and Blanche fleur. Characters in an early 
French romance. Their story is told by the Italian story 
teller, Boccaccio, in the tale, // Filopoco, and in the Frank- 
lin's Tale, one of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. 

143. Sir Ferumbras. A follower of Charlemagne. 

143. Sir Eglafnour. One of Arthur's Knights of the 
Round Table. 

144. Sir Launcelot. The greatest of all Arthur's knights. 

145. Sir Guy. Guy of Warwick was a legendary English 
hero. The others mentioned are all knights of the Round 
Table. 

151. Palermo. Palermo, the chief city of Sicily, was 
besieged by the French in 1849 and captured, when the 
people of Sicily rose in revolt against their foreign rulers. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 133 

153. Bomha. Ferdinand II., who ruled Sicily at this 
time, and who was given the nickname of Bomha because 
he bombarded the rebellious cities. 

166. Immortal Four. The four great mediaeval poets of 
Italy: Dante, Petrarch, Ariosto and Tasso. 

168. Bard. Boccaccio, a famous Itahan story teller 
whose chief work is the Decameron, a collection of tales sup- 
posed to be told by a gay party of people who had shut 
themselves up in a country estate during a period of plague 
in Florence. 

i6g. Tuscan. Tuscany is a province of western Italy 
containing the city of Florence. 

171. Fiesole. A small village near Florence where the 
story tellers sought refuge. 

180. Bucolic. Pastoral songs by Meli, a Sicilian poet of 
the eighteenth century. 

184. Theocritus. A famous Greek pastoral poet, who 
lived in Syracuse, a Greek city of Sicily, during the second 
century before Christ. 

185. Alicant. A port on the southern coast of Spain. 
188. Attar. A perfume made from the oil of roses. 

188. Levant. The countries lying along the eastern 
Mediterranean, as, Turkey, Syria, Greek, Egypt, and Asia 
Minor. 

189. Patriarch. A name given to the rulers of the 
Hebrew tribes before the time of Moses. 

196. Sandal. An aromatic wood. 

199. Moluccas. A group of spice islands in the Malay 
Archipelago. 

200. Celebes. One of the East Indies. 

202. Pierre Alphonse. A Spanish prelate of the fifteenth 
century who wrote a history of Spain from the earliest time. 

204. Sandahar. A collection of tales written in Hebrew 
in the Middle Ages, and called the Mishle Sandahar. 

205. Pilpay. Hindoo legends written in Sanskrit. 

208. Talmud. The collected body of the civil and 
canonical laws of the Jewish people. 

208. Tar gum. The Chaldean translation from the Old 
Testament. 

209. Kahala. A mystic philosophy which the Jewish 
race claim was delivered to them by revelation and by which 
they are able to interpret Scripture. 

213. Sackbut. A wind instrument somewhat like a 
trombone. 

216. Cambridge. Harvard College. 



134 NOTES 

240. Laurels. That is, the laurel crown of fame. Mil- 
tiades was the Grecian general who defeated the Persians at 
Marathon. 

253. Angel. In one of Raphael's famous Vatican fres- 
coes, Apollo is represented as playing on a violin. 

259. Stromkarl. The water spirit. 

269. Elivagar. A river which, according to the old 
Norse mythology, had its rise in the region of endless night 
and cold. 

272. Cremona. A province of northern Italy made noted 
by the wonderful violins once made there. 

276. Tyrolian. The Tyrol is a wooded province in 
Austria-Hungary. 

284. Stradivarius. A famous violin maker of the early 
eighteenth century, whose instruments have never been 
equalled. 

299, Harpsichord, .^.n instrument resembling the piano. 



THE LANDLORD'S TALE 
PAUL REVERE'S ride * 

2. Paul Revere. He was one of a secret society formed 
in Boston to watch the movements of the British troops 
quartered in the city. The circumstances leading to the 
incident here related may be found in any school history. 

9. North Church. Christ Church, which was built in 
1723, and is one of the oldest churches in Boston. On the 
tower is a tablet bearing this inscription: 

"The Signal Lanterns of 

Paul Revere 

Displayed in the Steeple of this Church, 

April 18, 1775, 

Warned the Country of the March 

of the British Troops 

to Lexington and Concord." 

13. Middlesex. One of the eastern counties of Massa- 
chusetts in which Lexington and Concord are situated. 

16. Charlestown. Now a part' of Boston. At that time 
it was a separate town on the north shore of the Charles 
River. 

29. Grenadiers. Fort soldiers, generally picked men of 
unusual stature and courage. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 135 

83. Mysiic. A river flowing into Boston Harbor. Paul 
Revere was obliged to ride along its southern shore. 
88. Medjord. A town near Boston on the north. 
96. Swim. That is, its reflection in the river. 
102. Bridge. See Emerson's Concord Hymn; 

By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, 

Here once the embattled farmers stood 

And fired the shot heard round the world." 



INTERLUDE 

10. 'Joyeuse. The name of Charlemagne's sword. 

10. Colada. The sword of the Spanish hero, the Cid, 
who fought in the wars with the Moors in the eleventh 
century. 

10. Durindale. The sword of Roland, a soldier in 
Charlemagne's army, which he won from the giant Jutmun- 
dus. 

11. Excalibar. King Arthur's sword. It was given to 
him by the Lady of the Lake, a famous sorceress. See 
Tennyson's Coming of Arthur. 

II. Aroundight. The sword of Arthur's knight, Lance- 
lot. 

2 1. Iron pot. Helmet. 

23. Escutcheon . A shield bearing a coat-of-arms. 

37. Emprise. Enterprise. 

38. Ariosto. A great Italian poet. 

49. Palmieri. The estate where the stories were told. 

50. Fiametta. The ladv who told the fifth tale. 



THE STUDENT'S TALE 

THE FALCON OF SER FEDERIGO 
The following is the story as Boccaccio tells it in the 
Decameron: 

"At Florence dwelt a young gentleman named Federigo, 
who, in feats of arms and gentility, surpassed all the youth in 
Tuscany. This gentleman was in love with a lady called 
Monna Giovanna, one of the most agreeable women in 
Florence, and to gain her affection, he was continually 
making tilts, balls, and such diversions; lavishing away his 
money on rich presents, and every thing that was extravagant. 



136 NOTES 

But she made no account either of what he did for her sake, 
or of himself. 

"As Federigo continued to live in this manner, spending 
profusely, and acquiring nothing, his wealth soon began to 
waste, till at last he had nothing left but a very small farm, 
the income of which was a most slender maintenance, and a 
single hawk, one of the best in the world. Yet loving still 
more than ever, and finding he could subsist no longer in 
the city in the manner he would choose to live, he retired to 
his farm, where he went out fowling, as often as the weather 
would permit, and bore his distress patiently, without ever 
making his necessity known to anybody. Now it happened 
that the lady's husband fell sick, and being very rich, he 
made a will by which he left all his substance to an only 
son, and if he should die without issue, he then ordered that 
it should revert to his lady, whom he was extremely fond of; 
and when he had disposed thus of his fortune, he died. 
Monna Giovanna, now being left a widow, retired to a house 
of hers in the country, near to that of Federigo: whence it 
happened that her son soon became acquainted with him, 
and they used to divert themselves together with dogs and 
hawks; and the boy, having often seen Federigo's hawk fly, 
and being strangely taken with it, was desirous of having it, 
though the other valued it to that degree that he knew not 
bow to ask for it. 

"This being so, the boy soon fell sick, which gave his 
mother great concern, as he was her only child, and she 
ceased not to attend on and comfort him; often requesting, 
if there was any particular thing which he fancied, to let 
her know it, and promised to procure it for him if it was 
possible. The young gentleman, after many offers of this 
kind, at last said, 'Madam, if you could contrive for me to 
have Federigo's hawk, I should soon be well.' She was in 
some perplexity at this, and began to consider how best to 
act. She knew that Federigo had long entertained a liking 
for her, without the least encouragement on her part; there- 
fore she said to herself, ' How can I send or go to ask for this 
hawk, which, I hear, is the very best of the kind, and which 
is all he has in the world to maintain him ? Or how can I 
offer to take away from a gentleman all the oleasure thdt 
he has in life?' Being in this perplexity, though she was 
very sure of having it for a word, she stood without making 
any reply; till at last the love of her son so far prevailed, 
that she resolved at all events to make him easy, and not 
send, but go herself. She then replied, 'Set your heart at 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 137 

rest, my son, and think only of your recovery; for I promise ' 
}Ou that I will go to-morrow for it the first thing I do.' 
This afforded him such joy, that he immediately showed 
signs of amendment. 

"The next morning she went, by way of a walk, with 
another lady in company, to Federigo's little cottage to 
inquire for him. At that time, as it was too early to go out 
upon his diversion, he was at work in his garden. Hearing, 
therefore, that his mistress inquired for him at the door, he 
ran thither, surprised and full of joy, whilst she, with a 
great deal of complaisance, went to meet him; and, after 
the usual compliments, she said, 'Good morning to you, 
sir; I am come to make you some amends for the losses 
you have sustained on my account, what I mean is, that I 
have brought a companion to take a neighborly dinner with 
you to-day.' He replied, with a great d^al of humility, 
'Madam, I do not remember ever to have suffered any loss 
by your means, but rather so much good, that if I was worth 
anything at any time it was due to your singular merit, and 
the love I had for you; and most assuredly this courteous 
visit is more welcome to me than if I had all I have wasted 
returned to me to spend over again; but you are come to a 
very poor host.' With these words he showed her into his 
house, seeming much out of countenance, and thence they 
went into the garden, where, having no company for her, 
he said, 'Madam, as I have nobody else, please to admit 
this honest woman, a laborer's wife, to be vv-ith you, whilst 
I set forth the table.' 

"Although his poverty was extreme, never till now had he 
been so sensible of his past extravagance; but finding nothing 
to entertain the lady with, for whose sake he had treated 
thousands, he was in the utmost perplexity, cursing his evil 
fortune, and running up and down hke one out of his wits. 
At length, having neither money nor anything he could pawn, 
and longing to give her something, at the same time that he 
would not make his case known, even so much as to his own 
laborer, he espied his hawk upon the perch, seized it, and 
finding it very fat, judged it might make a dish not unworthy 
of such a lady. Without further thought, then, he wrung 
its head off, and gave it to a girl to dress and roast carefully, 
whilst he laid the cloth, having a small quantity of linen 
left; and then he returned, with a smile on his countenance, 
into the garden to tell Monna Giovanna that what little 
dinner he was able to provide was now ready. She and her 
friend, therefore, entered and sat down with him, he serving 



138 NOTES 

them all the time with great respect, when they ate the good 
hawk, not knowing what it was. 

"After dinner was over, and they sat chatting a little while 
together, the lady thought it a fit time to tell her errand, and 
addressed him courteously in this manner: 'Sir, if you call 
to mind your past life, and my resolution, which perhaps 
you may call cruelty, I doubt not but you will wonder at my 
presumption when you know what I am come for; but if 
you had children of your own, to know how strong our 
natural affection is toward them, I am very sure you would 
excuse me. Now, my having a son forces me, against my 
own inclination, and all reason whatsoever, to request a 
thing of you, which I know you value extremely, as you 
have no other comfort or diversion left you in your small 
circumstances; I mean your hawk, which he has taken such 
a fancy to, that unless I bring it back with me I very much 
fear that he will die of his disorder. Therefore I entreat 
you, not for any regard you have for me, but for that gener- 
osity with which you have always distinguished yourself, 
that you would please to let me have it, so that I may be 
able to say that my child's life has been restored to me through 
your gift, and that he and I are under perpetual obligations 
to you.' 

"Federigo, hearing the lady's request, and knowing that 
it was out of his power to fulfil it, began to weep before he 
was able to make a word of reply. This she at first attributed 
to his reluctance to part with his favorite bird, and expected 
that he was going to give her a flat denial; but after she had 
waited a little for his answer, he said: 'Madam, ever since I 
have fixed my affections upon you, fortune has still been 
contrary to me in many things, and sorely have I felt them; 
but all the rest is nothing to what has now come to pass. 
You are here to visit me in this my poor dwelling, to which 
in my prosperity, you would never deign to come; you also 
entreat a small present of me, which it is wholly out of my 
power to give, as I am going briefly to tell you. As soon as 
I was acquainted with the great favor you designed me, I 
thought it proper, considering your superior merit and excel- 
lency, to treat you, according to my ability with . something 
choicer than is usually given to other persons, when, calling 
to mind my hawk, which you now request, and his goodness, 
judged him a fit repast for you, and you have had him 
roasted. Nor could I have thought him better bestowed, 
had you not now desired him in a different manner, which is 
such a grief to me, that I shall never be at peace as long as 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 139 

I live.' And saying this, he produced the hawk's feathers, 
feet, and talons. The lady began now to blame him for 
killing such a bird to entertain any woman with, in her 
heart all the while extolling the greatness of his soul, which 
poverty had no power to abase. 

"Having now no further hopes of obtaining the hawk, she 
took leave of Federigo, and returned sadly to her son; who, 
either out of grief for the disappointment, or through the 
violence of his disorder, died in a few days. She continued 
sorrowful for some time; but being left rich, and young, 
her brothers were very pressing with her to marry again. 
This went against her incUnation, but finding them still im- 
portunate, and remembering Federigo's great worth, and the 
late instance of his generosity in killing such a bird for her 
entertainment, she said, 'I should rather choose to continue 
as I am; but since it is your desire that I take a husband, I 
will have none but Federigo.' They smiled contemptuously 
at this, and said, 'You simple woman! what are you talking 
of ? He is not worth one farthing in the world.' She replied, 
'I believe it, brothers, to be as you say; but know, that I 
would sooner have a man that stands in need of riches, than 
riches without a man.' They hearing her resolution, and 
well knowing his generous temper, gave her to him with all 
her wealth ; and he, seeing himself possessed of a lady whom 
he had so dearly loved, and of such a vast fortune, lived in 
all true happiness with her, and was a better manager of 
his affairs than he had been before." 

4. Ser. The Italian for "Sir." 

8. Arno. A river in the northwestern part of Italy. 

10. Florence. A city on the Arno noted for its remark- 
able history and its art treasures. 

16. Monna. Lady. 

28. Thatch. Covered with straw or brush. 

30. Purveyor. One who provides food. 

44. Bells. A band of leather on which bells were strung 
was generally worn on a falcon's leg. 

59. Aiolian. A kind of harp on which the wind pjays, 
bv causing the strings to vibrate. It receives its name from 
^olus, god of the winds. 

81. Villa, Country house. 

84. Ilex. The holm oak, a kind of evergreen much used 
for decoration, especially in churches. 

84. Centennial. Very old. 



T40 NOTES 

85. Terraced. A succession of raised bankings faced 
with masonry or turf. 

■ 86. Sylvan. Statues of woodland deities, fauns, nymphs, 
etc. 

87. Palpitating. Quivering with heat. 

88. Val d'Arno. The valley of the Arno. 

102. Gerfalcon. A large falcon. This particular kind 
of bird was originally brought from Scandinavia. 

no. Passing-bell. A bell tolled for the dead. 

130. Pursuivant. Follower, attendant. 

151. Auroral. Rosy, like the dawn in color. Aurora 
was goddess of the dawn. 

164. - Euphrates. A river in western Asia, which, ac- 
cording to Genesis, was one of the four rivers that watered 
the garden of Eden. 

193. Signor. Gentleman. 

201. Ltire. An image of a bird, which was baited and 
used to recall falcons. 

203. Jesses. The leather bands around the falcon's legs. 

210. Bergamot. Pear. 

221. Fanfares. A flourish on the trumpets. 

228. Garden-close. An enclosed garden. 

271. Servitors. Servants . 



INTERLUDE 

15. Fen. Wooded marsh. 

25. Reservoirs. Many of Shakespeare's plots are taken 
from old Italian romances. 

27. Moor of Venice. Othello. 

27. Je%v. Shylock, a character in the Merchant of Venice. 

THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE 
THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI 

This story is taken from the Babylonian text of the Talmud 
and reads as follows: 

"As Rabbi Joshua Ben Levi lay dying, God spake to the 
Angel of Death: 'Go and do his will.' He went to him. 
When he appeared to him, the Rabbi said, 'S'^ow me my 
place in Paradise.' The Angel said, 'So be it.' Then said 
the Rabbi, 'Give me your sword; on the way you might 
threaten me.' The Angel gave it him. When the Angel 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



141 



had got there he lifted him upon the wall and showed him 
his place. But the Rabbi sprang over and landed on the 
other side. Then he grasped him by the edge of his mantle, 
but he said: 'I swear I won't come out.' Then spoke the 
Holy One: 'May he be blessed. If he has ever given an 
oath and then wished to be released from it, he shall be 
released, also, from this; but if such is not the case, he shall 
not be released.' Then spake the Angel of Death to him, 
'Give me back my sword.' When it w^as not given back, 
there was heard a heavenly voice saying: 'Give it him for 
he needs it.' " 



INTERLUDE 

9. Adumbration. Shadow^, phantom. 

12. Impalpable. Not perceptible to touch. 

21. Abate. An abbot, the head of a monastery. 



THE SICILIAN'S TALE 

KING ROBERT OF SICILY 

I. Robert of Sicily. There is no absolute historical origi- 
nal of Robert of Sicily. The story is based on an early 
English romance called Robert of Cysille. In its earliest 
form, however, it is found, or at least suggested, in the 
history of the Emperor Jovinian, as related in the Gesta 
Romanorum, a mediaeval collection of romances that has 
furnished many plots for later writers. 

1. Pope Urbane. There have been several Popes of this 
name. 

2. Valmond. This is not an historical name. 
2. Allemaine. Germany. 

5. St. John's Eve. The eve of June 23. 

6. Magnificat. The canticle or song of rejoicing of the 
Virgin Mary found in Luke, Chapter I. It is sung at 
Vespers in Catholic churches. 

9. Deposuit, etc. "He hath put down the mighty from 
their seats and exalted the humble and meek." 

17. Seditious. Words tending to provoke sedition. 

32. Imprecations. Curses. 

34. Stalls. Choir seats. 

52. . Besprent, Covered with. 



142 NOTES 



56. Seneschal. A steward in charge of the household 
63. Dais. In dining halls there was frequently a raised 

platform on which stood a separate table for the master and 

persons of rank. 

68. Effulgence. Splendor, beauty. 

83. Bells, etc. These were emblems of jesters or fools, 
kept by noblemen to amuse them. 

84. Henchmen. Servants. 

106. Saturnian. Saturn was an old Roman divinity, 
supposed to be the father of all the gods, and to have taught 
men agriculture. 

no. Enceladus. A giant with a hundred arms who was 
an enemy of the gods. Athene finally slew him by throwing 
the island of Sicily upon him. 

113. Motley. Of many colors. 

132. Holy Thursday. The Thursday before Easter. 

141. Housings. Ornamental coverings for a horse. 

143. Menials. The lowest form of servants. 

144. Piebald. Mottled in color. 

150. Saint Peter's square. The piazza or open space in 
front of St. Peter's Cathedral in Rome. 

169. Holy Week. The week preceding Easter. 

186. Salerno. A city in the southwest of Italy. 

187. Palermo. The capital of Sicily. 

189. Angelus. The bell tolled morning, noon, and even- 
ing, as a signal for making a devotion to the Virgin. 
200. Shriven. Absolved from sin, pardoned. 



INTERLUDE 

2. Saga. A poem or song. The sagas are parts of the 
Heimskringla, a chronicle history of Iceland, by Snorro 
Sturleson. It relates the stories of the Norse kings from 
mythical times to about 1177. 

5. Norroway. Norway. 

9. Scad. Wandering minstrels. 

17. Runes. Mystic songs of the Scandinavians. 

THE MUSICIAN'S TALE 

THE SAGA OF KING OLAF 

THE CHALLENGE OF THOR 

Longfellow has added two parts to the original saga, 
"The Challenge of Thor" andthe "Nun of Nidaros," 



1 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 143 

I . Thor. The god of war in the old Norse mythology. 
He made the thunder with his iron hammer. 

13. Gauntlets. Steel gloves. 

25. Jove. King of the gods according to the Romans. 
He corresponds to Odin in the Norse mythology. 

38. Galilean. Christ. 

olaf's return 

43. Olaj. Olaf, son of Tryggve, ruled Norway from 
996 to 1000. His father died before he was born, and his 
mother wa. exiled to Russia, where Olaf grew up. He 
became a Viking, and on one of his expeditions met a monk, 
who converted him to Christianity. In 996 he overthrew 
Hakon, king of Norway, conquered the country and forced 
the people to become Christians. The people, however, 
revolted, and with the aid of Sweden and Denmark defeated 
and killed him. 

48. Drontheim. A city of Norway on the fiord or bay 
of Drontheim. 

66. Hakoft. Hakon Gorm, who gave a refuge to Astrid 
and her son in their exile. 

68. Gunhild's. Gunhild was the mother of two minor 
Norwegian kings who pursued Astrid when she fled. 

103. Rowers. The old Viking ships were built like 
galleys, with tiers of oarsmen to propel them. 

106. Smalsor Horn. A mountain in the southern part 
of Norway. 

THORA OF RIMOL 

130. Thorp. Small hamlet. 

131. Hakon. Hakon the Bad, king of i>[orway. 
139. Thrall. Servant, virtually a slave. 

169. Nidarholm. A village a few miles from Trond- 
hjem. 

SIGRID THE HAUGHTY 

175. Sigrid. The Queen of Sweden, for whose hand 
Olaf had sued. 

188. Tapestry. A rich fabric into which landscapes and 
figures were woven. 

190. Brynhilda. Character in an ancient German epic 
poem. 

THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS 

232. Angvalds-ness. A village on an island near the 
southwestern coast of Norway. 



144 NOTES 

236. Skerry. A Scotch word for "reef." 
249. Dirges. Solemn chants for the dead. 
275. Warlocks. Wizards, dealers in magic. 
288. Witch of Endor. The soothsayer whom Saul cor - 
suited in I. Sam. xxviii. 

THE WRAITH OF ODIN* 

* Wraith. Phantom, ghost. 

329. Dead, etc. This song is in ancient ballad form, 
in which each stanza commonly ended in a refrain, which 
often had nothing to do with the story. Dante Gabriel 
Rossetti is very fond of this device. 

361. Havamal. Odin's song of triumph. 

371. Lore. Learning, wisdom. 

IRON-BEARD 

393. Hust-Ting. House thing, or public assembly com 
posed of men who owned land and houses. 

393. Mere. A meeting place near the city of Drontheim. 

Yriar. A district near the city. 

Churliest. Roughest of country fellows. 

Hodden. The natural color of the wool, undyed. 

Hymer. A water spirit that dwelt in the winter sea, 



397 
402 

405 
416 



his beard covered with ice. 

GUDRUN * 

* Gudriin. She was the daughter of Iron-Beard. After 
he was slain. King Olaf offered his relatives compensation 
for his bloodshed, and they finally agreed that the king 
should take Gudrun in marriage. 

474. Cairn. A rounded heap of stones which the Norse 
used to erect as a monument to the dead. 

490. Bodkin. An instrument once used to fasten the 
hair. 

THANGBRAND THE PRIEST * 

* Thangbrand. A Saxon priest of passionate temper whom 
Olaf sent to Christianize Iceland. 

509. Rote. Word for word. 

510. Chrysostome. A celebrated Church father of the 
fourth century. 

511. Fathers. The learned priests and bishops of the 
early Catholic Church. 

519. Wassail. A spiced liquor used at feasts and merry- 
makings. 

523. Malecontent. One who is discontented. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



145 



544. Altafiord. A bay on the eastern coast of Iceland. 
560. Shovel. A clerical hat with a brim rolled on the 
sides and projecting in front like a shovel. 

RAUD THE STRONG * 

* Raud. A rich man and a great chief. 

584. Evangelists. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. 

596. Jarls and Thanes. The jarls were ranked as earls, 
the thanes only a little above the common free man. 

600. Saltan Fiord. It lies in the northwestern part of 
Norway. 

602. Viking. A roving navigator, usually a pirate. 

603. Godoe Isles. They are near the mouth of Salten 
Fiord. 

BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD 

640. Tide-Ways. At ebb tide this fiord is very dangerous 
to enter owing to the force with which the water rushes 
through its narrow entrance. 

654. Crucifix. A cross bearing the image of Christ. 

667. Apocalypse. The Book of Revelation, supposed to 
have been written by St. John. 

KING OLAF'S CHRISTMAS 

717. Yule-tide. Christmas time. 

720. Berserks. Fierce Norse warriors. 

735. Hauberk. Battle axe. 

746. Qtiern-biter. The sword of Hakon the Good, hero 
of one of the sagas. 

749. Footbreadth. The sword of Thorolf, who was slain 
by Hakon the Good. 

785. Host. The bread and wine of the Eucharist which 
has been consecrated by the priest. 

792. Was-hael. A health! 

THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT 

821. Orgies. Drunken revelries. 

841. Carling. Pieces of timber used to fortify the 
smaller beams of a ship. 

864. Ell. An ell is the distance from the elbow to the 
end of the middle finger. 

THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT 

883. Lanner. A kind of hawk. 

886. Forecastle. The forepart of a ship, formerly much, 
raided and in the form of a castle. 



146 NOTES 

896. VarLet. A low fellow, a servant. 

904. Azure. A light, bright blue. 

939. Old King Gorm. An ancient Danish king. 

939. Blue-Tooth Harald. The son and successor of King 
Gorm. 

A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR 

943. Thyri. She was given in marriage to Burislief, king 
of the Vends, but as long as she was among heathen she 
refused either to eat or drink, and finally ran away into the 
woods and made her way to Norway. 

945. Garrulous. Talkative. 

959. Weald. A forest. 

959. Wold. An open plain. 

QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS 

1003. Angelica. A European aromatic plant of great 
fragrance. 

1023. King Harald. The Blue-Tooth Harald already 
referred to. 

1028. Scatt. Tribute money. 

103 1. Vendland. This country was on the southern 
shore of the Baltic Sea. 

KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD 

1084. Isle of Svald. This island, which no longer exists, 
is said to have disappeared in the fourteenth century. 

1089. Sigrid. Olaf's enemy, who had married Svcnd 
of the Forked Beard. See the saga of Sigrid the Haughty. 

iioi. Frontlet. Forehead. 

1 125. Finmark. A province in the extreme north of 
Norway. 

1 145. Stet-haven. A bay of northern Germany on which 
the city of Stettin is situated. 

KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD 

Sigvald was sent by King Svend to spy upon Olaf and 
bring the two kings together, if possible. He induced Olaf 
to set sail with his fleet to attack Svend, and led them all 
into the harbor under the island of Svald, where the Danish 
king was lying in wait for them. 

KING olaf's WAR-HORNS 

1 197. Brume. Mist. 

1200. Regnarock. Or "Regnarok," the day of universal 
destruction. 

1234. Thanes. Followers. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 147 

EINAR TAMBERSKELVER 

1266. Skaldspillar. A Scandinavian poet who wrote a 
poem about Hakon the Great. 

1272. Yeoman. A freeman, a citizen. 

1297. Assay. Trial. 

1302. Kamper. Battle. 

1 3 10. Saint Michael. One of the angels mentioned by 
name in the Bible. Compare Milton : — 

" For likest gods they seemed, 
Stood they, or moved, in stature, motion, arms, 
Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. 
Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields 
Blazed opposite, while Expectation stood 
In horror." — Paradise Lost. 

KING OLAF'S death-drink 

1314. Assuaged. Satisfied, appeased. 
1343. Orkadale. The valley of the Orka River, a stream 
in the central part of Norway. 

1370. Sea-kale. Sea cabbage, a kind of seaweed. 

THE NUN OF NIDAROS 

1378. Abbess. The superior or directress of a nunnery. 
1432. Brumal. Misty. 



INTERLUDE 

26. Calvin. A Swiss Protestant reformer of the early 
sixteenth century. His doctrines exerted wide influence on 
Protestant churches. 

27. Athanasiun creeds. St. Athanasius was a celebrated 
Church father of the fourth century, who defended the 
doctrine of the Trinity at a time when the Church was in 
danger from all sides. His name is given to a celebrated 
creed found in the English Prayer Book, although it was 
really written at a much later date. 

28. Holy water. Water blessed by the priest. 

28. Beads. Rosaries, used by Catholics in telling their 
prayers. 

30. Council of Trent. A great Church council held in 
1 545-1 563. Its chief work was to condemn the doctrines 
of the Reformation. 



148 NOTES 

^^. Evergreens, etc. The emblems of Christmas and 
Palm Sunday. 

34. Litanies. Prayers for mercy and pardon. 

35. Pharisee. The Pharisees were an ancient and strict 
Jewish sect. For the incident alluded to seeLw^exviii., 10. 

40. One churdi. See Revelation, 11., 3. 

49. Evidence of things unseen. Now faith is the sub- 
stance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. 

— Hebrews, xi., i. 

51. Phantasiasts. One of the religious sects that arose 
during the second century. They believed that Christ 
possessed only an etherealized human body and suffered, 
therefore, only in appearance. 

58. Beautiful feet. How beautiful upon the mountains 
are the feet of Him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth 
peace. — Isaiah, lii, 7. 

61. Old Puller. Thomas Fuller was an English clergy- 
man of the seventeenth century. 



THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE 
TORQUEMADA 

This tale is taken from a legend related by De Castro in 
his Espaniola Protestantes, a book describing the persecutions 
of Spanish Protestants under the reign of Ferdinand and 
Isabella. 

I. Ferdinand. King 1452-1516. He was the founder 
of the Spanish monarchy, and surnamed "the Catholic." 
His wife, Isabella, was also a devoted Catholic. 

3. Torquemada. The head of the Inquisition, a Spanish 
ecclesiastical court to try heretics. It is said that in sixteen 
years he burned between nine and ten thousand persons 
at the stake. 

5. Valladolid. The capital of Valladolid, a province 
in the north of Spain. 

6. Moated. Surrounded by a trench filled with water 
for defence. 

7. Hidalgo. The lowest rank of Spanish noblemen. 
7. Taciturn. Reserved, silent. 

19. Host. The bread and wine of the Eucharist. 

22. Ephesus. A city in Asia Minor where famous gladi- 
atorial combats were held. St. Paul says: "If after the 
manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what 
: dvantageth it me, if the dead rise not?" 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



r49 



23. Lent. The fast of forty days preceding Easter which 
commemorates the fast of Jesus. 

25. Corpus Christi. A festival kept by the CathoUc 
Church on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. It com- 
memorates the establishment of the F^ucharist as the name, 
"body of Christ," signifies. 

26. Palm Sunday. The Sunday before Easter, which 
commemorates Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem. 

112. Holy Office. That is, the Court of Inquisition. 

125. Mystic horn. It is said that Torquemada always 
carried a unicorn's horn about with him as a protection 
against poison. 

1 29. Abraham. One of the fathers of the Jewish race. 
For nis story see Genesis xxii. 

1 60. Ravens. Ravens have always been considered birds 
of ill-omen. 

163. Caparisoned. Decked out. 



INTERLUDE 

21. Italian Tales. Boccaccio's, already alluded to. 

22. Straparole. An Italian novelist of the sixteenth cen- 
tury who wrote a collection of stories supposed to be told 
on separate nights by a party of ladies and gentlemen and 
called Straparole^ s Nights. 

23. MachiaveUi. An Italian statesman of the early six- 
teenth century. Belphagor is a humorous account of the 
adventures of an arch-fiend on earth. 



THE POET'S TALE 
THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH 

2. Merle. The blackbird. 

2. Mavis. The thrush. 

3. His hand. That is, the hand of God. 

4. Ccedmon. An Anglo-Saxon poet who lived in the 
seventh century. His work is really the earliest of English 
poetry. 

12. Holy Writ. Sparrows are mentioned in various 
places in the New Testament, and in the Psalms we read: 
"Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a 
nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine 
altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God." 



156 NOTES 

15. Ravens cry. "He giveth to the beast his food, and 
to the young ravens which cry." 

17. Sound. Long Island Sound. KiUingworth is a town 
in Connecticut about ten miles from the shore. 

25. Jocund. Merry, full of cheer. Shakespeare speaks 
of the "jocund day." 

30. Cassandra. A prophetess, the daughter of Priam, 
king of Troy, She foretold the destruction of the city by the 
Greeks. 

30. Prognosticating. Foretelling. 

35. Marauders. Robbers. 

35. Lieu. In place of. 

42. Fluted columns. Columns ornamented with a series 
of grooves. 

43. Squire. The chief man of the village. 

52. Edwards on the Will. A treatise on the freedom of 
the will, by Jonathan Edwards, an American theologian of 
the eighteenth century. 

67. Sable bombazine. A black fabric of silk and worsted. 

89. Plato. A famous Greek philosopher. In his account 
of an ideal state he advocated a strict censorship over poets, 
thus anticipating the critics of modern times. 

93. Troubadours. Wandering poets, who flourished in 
France and Italy during the Middle Ages. 

96. David. For the account of the way David healed 
Saul, who was afflicted by an evil spirit, see I. Samuel, xvi., 
14-23. 

124. Madrigals. Little love songs. 

138. Windrows. Rows of hay raked together prepara- 
tory to stacking. 

140. Hurdy-gurdies. Stringed instruments vibrated by 
turning cranks. 

142. Roundelay. A rustic song, simple and lively. 

143. Field- fares. Thrushes. 

184. St. Bartholomew. On St. Bartholomew's Day, 
1572, between twenty and thirty thousand Huguenots, or 
French Protestants, were massacred in Paris. 

193. Herod. King of the Jews at the time of Christ's 
birth. "And immediately the angel of the Lord smote him 
because he gave not God the glory: and he was eaten by 
worms, and gave up the ghost." 

211. Tongues of flame. The autumn foliage. For the 
figure compare Acts ii., 3: "And there appeared unto them 
cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them." 

2I2... Doom's-Day book. An ancient record of the survey 



RD- 



17 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 



^5^ 



of all the lands in the kingdom of England, made in the reign 
of William the Conqueror. 

229. Canticles. Songs of praise. 

FINALE 

5. Bagpipes. Wind instruments something like a trom- 
bone. 

19. Bear. The name of a constellation of stars. 



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